OAK  ST.  HDSF 


II  B  R.AR.Y 

OF   THE 

U  N  IVERSITY 
OF    ILLINOIS 


Tom  Turner  Collection 

8B4.F887 
OhElh 
I9O<3 


HOLYLAND 


JORN    UHL. 

BY 

GUSTAV    FRENSSEN. 


Some  press  Opinions. 

OUTLOOK.— "This  remarkable  book  well  deserves 
translation  into  English.  The  author  ....  has  a  natural 
and  varied  grace  of  style  which  is  irresistible  ....  it 
will  impress  the  most  careless  reader  as  a  novel  of  excep- 
tional distinction,  which  may  rank  with  the  very  best  in 
contemporary  literature." 

WESTMINSTER  GAZETTE.— "The  public  is  to  be 
congratulated  on  the  fact  that  this  story  was  translated, 
for  we  know  of  no  finer  in  modern  German  fiction." 

REVIEW  OF  REVIEWS.— "It  is  a  remarkable  and 
powerful  story,  and  deserves  to  be  widely  read.  It  is  the 
only  novel  of  the  month  that  you  cannot  afford  to  omit 
from  your  list  of  books  to  read." 

ATHENAEUM.—"  Really  is  a  fine  novel.  .  .  .The  book 
is  steeped  in  the  atmosphere  of  meadow,  moor,  and  marsh." 

Price  6s. 
LONDON  :  A.  CONSTABLE  AND  CO.,  LTD. 


HOLYLAND 


BY 

GUSTAV      FRENSSEN 

AUTHOR  OF  "JOHN  UHL" 


Translated  from  the  German 

BY 
MARY  AGNES   HAMILTON 


Hontfon 

ARCHIBALD     CONSTABLE 
AND     COMPANY,     LTD. 

1906 


RICHARD  CLAY  AND  SONS,  LIMITED, 

BREAD  STREET  HILL,  E.C.,  AND 

BUNGAY,  SUFFOLK. 


CO 

CK 


CO 

•a 


CHIEF    CHARACTERS 

Tjark     Dusenschon — Left-handed     descendant     of     a     prince's     son, 
brought  up  by  his  grandmother, 

Stiena  Dusenschon. 

Kai  Jans — Eldest  son  of 

Thomas  Jans — A  navvy,  formerly  on  the  lightship. 

Pe  Ontjes  Lau — Son  of  the  harbourmaster ;  marries 

Anna  Boje — Eldest  daughter  of 

William  Boje — Teacher,  and 

Hella — His  wife. 

Pete  and  Hett — Anna's  brothers. 

Heinke — Her  sister  (eight  years  younger). 

Kassen      Wedderkopp — An    old    civil    servant    living    in    Hilligenlei ; 
formerly  a  journalist. 

Heine  Wulk — Editor  of  the  newspaper. 
Daniel  Peters — Mayor  of  the  town. 

Peter  Volquardsen — A  young  teacher  at  the  grammar  school ;  marries 
Heinke. 


HOLYLAND 


CHAPTER    I 

HALF  asleep  and  dissatisfied,  many  people  merely  drag 
themselves  through  life ;  they  never  really  live ;  they  are 
a  burden  to  those  about  them.  Who  cares  for  their  story? 

There  are  others  whose  childish  eyes  are  full  of  wonder, 
who  dimly  feel,  as  boys,  that  great  things  are  reserved  for 
them,  and  go  out  into  life  with  unclouded  spirits.  It 
would  be  worth  while  to  tell  their  story.  Never  mind ;  it 
does  not  come  to  much,  after  all.  What  do  these  people 
make  of  their  lives?  They  devote  themselves  to  the  pur- 
suit of  wealth  and  outward  honour  and  such  illusions ; 
they  run,  they  stumble,  they  fail  to  find  what  they  seek, 
and  so  stumble  into  their  graves.  It  is  a  weariness  to 
write  their  story;  one's  hair  grows  grey  in  the  telling. 
Not  that  we  expect  the  superhuman — that  people  should 
set  out  to  find  a  kingly  crown — no ;  let  them  only^  while 
pursuing  their  illusions,  have  some  hope  of  finding  in  the 
next  field  a  troop  of  angels  instead  of  a  herd  of  asses  : 
some  vague  idea  that  there,  under  the  oak  tree  at  the 
next  turn  of  the  road,  the  Eternal  may  be  standing  with 
the  thousand  riddles  of  the  world  in  His  sacred  hands, 
ready  to  tell  them  the  answer  to  some.  We  do  ask  this ; 
without  this  a  man  is  incomplete. 

And  so,  my  troubled,  courageous  soul,  tell  the  story  of 
one  who  sought  for  holiness  full  of  unrest,  full  of  hope. 

With  the  coming  of  the  dusk  the  storm  cast  itself  more 
fiercely  upon  the  sea,  striking  with  its  strength  the  grey 
waste  of  desolate  waters  far  and  wide.  From  Iceland  to 


2  HOLYLAND 

the  Scotch  coast,  and  from  there  right  over  to  Norway, 
the  grey,  foaming  waves  came  heavily  on  a  hundred  miles 
across,  with  endless  roar  and  rush,  on  to  the  Holstein 
coast.  There  in  the  dread  darkness  at  the  entrance  of  the 
bay  lay  the  squat  red  lightship  swinging  heavily  backwards 
and  forwards  on  its  chain,  swaying  its  radiant  lamp. 
Over  the  blackness  of  the  angry  ocean  its  light  flickered 
restlessly.  The  wind  tore  and  whistled  in  the  rigging. 
Howling  and  swelling  storm  and  sea  rushed  past  the  light- 
ship, roared  into  the  wide,  grey  bay,  forced  their  way  up 
the  narrow  harbour  into  the  little  town  called  Hilligenlei. 
Then  indeed  the  storm,  as  if  exulting  in  its  freedom 
from  the  sea,  which  had  hung  at  its  heels  all  the  way 
from  Iceland,  dashed  itself,  wild  and  surging,  against  the 
first  obstacle  it  met,  a  long,  low,  thatched  roof  standing 
high  upon  the  beach  at  the  top  of  the.  harbour  stream. 
It  dashed  against  the  roof  and  struck  the  five  chimneys 
with  might  and  main ;  it  leapt  round  the  house  and  tore 
at  the  five  doors  and  at  the  windows. 

In  the  furthest  room  sat  Rieke  Thomson,  the  midwife, 
in  her  comfortable  armchair  :  feet  on  the  foot-warmer, 
hands  resting  on  her  portly  body,  coffee-pot  ready  on  the 
table,  she  was  waiting  peacefully.  She  sat  there 
looking  down  the  street,  only  turning  her  big  head  from 
time  to  time  to  look  through  a  little  square  window  that 
she  herself  had  had  made  at  the  side,  across  the  bay  to 
see  whether  there  were  any  sign  from  Friestadt.  It  was 
the  time-honoured  duty  of  the  Friestadt  schoolmaster, 
who  lived  on  the  dyke  opposite,  to  put  a  white  cloth  on 
the  dark,  thatched  roof  in  the  day-time  and  a  light  in 
the  school-room  window  at  night  that  could  be  seen  from 
Hilligenlei  whenever  a  woman  was  in  labour.  This 
stormy  evening,  however,  it  was  only  the  force  of  habit 
that  made  her  turn  her  heavy  head.  As  far  as  any  news 
she  had  heard,  there  could  be  no  message  from  Friestadt. 
It  was  across  to  the  house  of  Harbourmaster  Lau  that 
she  looked.  His  wife's  time  must  come  to-night,  she 
thought.  But  the  harbourmaster's  door  remained  tight 
shut. 

Then  she  began  to  be  sorry  for  herself,  a  lonely, 
neglected  female,  although  in  the  course  of  the  day  she 
had  had  seven  visitors.  Six  old  women  had  come  to 
gossip.  One  young  one  wanted  to  know  from  the  cards 


HOLYLAND  3 

when  she  should  be  a  mother  again.  Tired  of  being-  alone, 
she  bent  indolently  to  pick  up  the  wooden  shoe  that  lay 
by  the  fireside,  and  threw  it,  with  a  slow  swing  of  her 
arm,  against  the  door.  In  came  old  Hule  Beiderwand, 
who  lived  in  the  next  room.  In  spite  of  his  sixty  years,  he 
carried  himself  as  upright  as  in  his  youth,  when  he  was 
mounted  orderly  between  Kiel  and  Gottorp;  but  his 
straight  bearing  was  not  only  due  to  the  proud  build  of 
his  body ;  far  more  to  the  lovely  light  that  shone  within 
his  soul. 

Round  about  the  bay  of  Hilligenlei,  at  the  foot  and 
under  the  shade  of  the  great  sea  dyke,  clustered  many 
little  houses,  in  which  dwelt  navvies,  fishermen,  and  small 
farmers.  These  people,  living  extraordinarily  lonely  lives 
in  their  dark,  low-roofed  rooms,  far  away  from  the  church, 
had  from  long  time  past  brooded  over  a  peculiar  faith. 
They  called  themselves  "  Holyland  men,"  and  lived  in  the 
belief  that  the  little  town  of  Hilligenlei  and  the  country 
round  the  bay  would  be  one  day  a  real  Hilligenlei,  i.e., 
Holyland.  They  looked  for  the  Kingdom  of  God  in  the 
bay.  The  secret  leader,  and,  indeed,  the  last  of  the 
faithful — for  the  faith  was  dying  out — was  Hule  Beider- 
wand. In  his  life  he  had  watched  many  nights  by  sick- 
beds, and  thus  acquired  the  habit  of  standing  by  the 
window  and  looking  out  into  the  night.  Now,  with  his 
slow,  stiff  gait,  he  went  to  the  little  window  that  looked 
out  over  the  bay.  Lost  in  thought,  he  gazed  out  into  the 
darkness  and  listened  to  the  song  of  the  storm. 

"It's  too  bad,"  said  Rieke,  "that  I  have  got  to  sit 
here  like  this,  a  lonely  old  woman  like  me.  And  if  a  man 
does  come  he  stands  there  mum  like  a  stock  !  " 

"There  is  a  light,"  said  the  old  man. 

"What?"  she  cried,  starting  up  in  her  chair,  and 
looking  out.  There  in  the  distance  the  clear  light  shone 
calm  and  distinct.  "  In  Friestadt !  What  is  it,  Hule?  " 

"I  think  I  know,"  said  the  old  man.  "A  fortnight 
ago  Lisa  Dusenschon  was  here — in  the  dusk,  like  this." 

Rieke,  with  her  hands  on  her  knees,  looked  at  Hule  out 
of  her  big,  round  eyes.  "Lisa  Dusenschon?  That's 
Stiena's  daughter,  who  lives  near  us  in  the  long  house? 
in  service  with  the  Reimars  in  Friestadt?  " 

"  If  you  know  no  other  woman  in  Friestadt  for  whom 
the  light  has  been  put  out,  it  is  Lisa.  She  asked  for  her 

B  2 


4  HOLYLAND 

mother:  she  was  away;  then  for  you,  and  you  weren't 
there  either ;  then  she  went  away  again.  Now  that  I  see 
the  light  I  imagine  that  she  had  something  important  to 
say." 

"Well,"  said  Rieke,  pressing  her  hands  against  the 
arms  of  her  chair  as  if  to  get  up,  "then  I  must  go  to 
Friestadt  in  all  this  weather  !  " 

She  had  not  yet  risen,  when  the  storm  seized  the  outer 
door  and  dashed  it  against  the  wall.  There  on  the 
threshold  stood  Lisa,  strong  and  broad,  her  ruddy  fair 
hair  hanging  wet  about  her  ears,  deathly  exhaustion  on 
her  white  face,  horror  in  her  deep-set  eyes. 

' '  The  farmer  has  turned  me  out ;  my  mother  is  not  at 
home." 

Rieke  hobbled  out  of  the  chair  and  took  hold  of  her, 
led  her  up  three  steps  to  the  inner  room,  and  laid  her 
down  on  the  bed. 

"Well,  I  never,"  she  said.  "  Never  in  my  life  have  I 
had  such  a  fright !  " 

"  Rieke,  I  lay  down  in  the  mud  fifty  times.  I  doubled 
up  like  a  worm.  I  wanted  to  take  hold,  but  I  couldn't." 
She  breathed  deep.  "Oh,  now  it  is  easier.  Hasn't 
mother  come  yet?  " 

"She  will  be  here  directly.  Hark!  that's  the  door. 
Yes,  here  she  is."  Stiena  Dusenschon  was  dressed  in  the 
attire  she  always  donned  for  visiting.  On  her  head  was 
the  dingy-black  state  bonnet,  round  her  thin  shoulders  the 
old-fashioned  black  mantle  with  bead  fringe  that  the 
clergyman's  wife  had  given  her.  Her  long  bonnet  strings 
hanging  down  in  front  trembled,  and  the  bead  fringe 
jumped  up  and  down  in  her  excitement.  She  passed 
her  hands  over  her  head  again  and  again  in  a  troubled 
manner.  "Oh,  my  child,  my  child,"  she  cried,  "why 
have  you  done  this?  " 

"Woman,"  said  Rieke,  "do  not  for  any  sake  get  into 
a  state.  Were  you  any  better  in  your  young  days  ?  Why 
has  she  done  it?  Either  because  some  one  got  the  better 
of  her  or  because  her  own  nature  drove  her  to  it.  That's 
why." 

Stiena  had  sat  down  at  the  edge  of  the  bed  gasping  for 
breath.  "  My  child,  my  child,  who  is  the  father?  Only 
tell  your  old  mother  who  the  father  is." 

"Stop  your  questions,"  said  Rieke.     "Go  and  fetch 


HOLYLAND  5 

little  Tina  Rauh  to  help  us  and  make  some  coffee.     We 
shall  need  half  the  night  for  this. ' ' 

Stiena  was  a  trifle  offended.  However,  she  got  up  from 
the  bed,  and,  going  out,  returned  with  the  little  Rauh  girl, 
one  of  the  family  living  in  the  harbour  street,  all  of  whom 
have  curly  fair  hair  and  somewhat  wandering  wits.  Then 
she  went  straight  to  her  daughter's  bed.  She  lay  groan- 
ing heavily,  her  distorted  face  against  the  coverlet.  "  Oh, 
my  child,  tell  me;  is  it  some  rich  farmer's  son?  or  a 
strange  gentleman?  or,  oh  !  is  it  a  nobleman?  " 

"  A  nobleman,  indeed  !  said  Rieke,  shaking  her  great, 
round  head.  "  Be  glad  if  it's  a  good,  honest  fellow  who 
will  acknowledge  mother  and  child.  Come,  we'll  have  a 
cosy  cup  of  coffee.  It's  not  a  dream,  is  it  now,  that 
you're  to  be  a  grandmother  to-day?  Come,  sit  down." 

Just  as  Tina  lifted  up  the  can  to  pour  out,  Lisa  gave  a 
loud  cry  from  the  inner  room.  The  girl  put  the  can 
noisily  down  on  the  table,  and  was  on  the  point  of  running 
away. 

"  Oh,  dear.      I  must  run  home  to  mother!  " 

Rieke,  however,  took  hold  of  her  by  the  neck.  "  You 
stay  here  at  the  table,  and  mind  you  don't  stir.  Come, 
Stiena,"  and  they  went  in  to  help  the  moaning  woman. 

The  little  girl  sat  huddled  up  at  the  table  as  if  she  were 
fastened  there.  When  Lisa  cried  out  she  drove  both 
hands  into  her  tousled  hair;  when  the  cry  was  louder  she 
held  her  ears.  When  it  got  quieter  within  she  cautiously 
straightened  out  her  neck  and  laughed.  So  she  stayed 
for  two  long  hours,  till  a  soft,  distant  weeping  came,  as 
if  from  far  away,  from  the  inner  room.  Then  she  bowed 
her  head  on  the  table  and  wept  miserably. 

"  Well,  that  really  breaks  one's  back,"  said  Rieke, 
coming  down  into  the  room.  ' '  Come,  let's  have  our  coffee. ' ' 
She  sat  down  heavily  in  the  big  armchair  and  looked  at 
Tina.  "You  go  now  and  sit  up  there  and  listen  if  Lisa 
is  asleep  or  calls  out  or  anything,  and  don't  stir  from 
there.  Come  now,  Stiena,  sit  down  and  make  yourself 
cosy. ' ' 

"Who  can  the  father  be?  "  said  Stiena,  smiling  at  her 
happy  thoughts,  and  turning  about  on  her  chair  as  if  to 
the  strains  of  a  slow  waltz.  "Assuredly  a  farmer's  son, 
most  assuredly;  and,  better  still — and,  Rieke,  think  of 
its  being  a  boy.  That  makes  me  so  awfully  happy.  The 


6  HOLYLANI) 

DusenschSns  have  been  girls  for  a  hundred  years  back, 
but  now — it's  a  boy  !  " 

"  You  really  might  tell  me,"  said  Rieke  Thomson, 
filling  her  cup,  "  the  true  story  of  your  Dusenschons;  but 
mind  you  don't  exaggerate;  in  my  old  age  I  don't  want 
any  lies  told  me.  Drink  your  coffee. ' ' 

Stiena  drank,  and,  putting  down  her  cup,  swayed  for 
awhile  to  the  joyous  music  within  her,  with  a  sweet, 
thoughtful  smile,  her  bonnet  strings  swaying  and  the  bead 
fringe  waving  this  way  and  that.  "  Ah,"  she  said,  "  that 
is  a  story,  indeed.  Look  here.  It  began  a  hundred  years 
ago  or  more.  Then  my  great  grandfather  was  mayor 
here  in  Hilligenlei  and  called  von  Dusenschon.  He  lived 
quite  alone  with  his  six  daughters.  He  did  not  allow  the 
young  men  of  the  town  to  come  near  them,  for  he  hoped 
that  noblemen  and  officers  would  come  and  fetch  them 
away  one  after  the  other,  for  they  were  all  very  beautiful. 
He  did  not  trouble  over  their  growing  older  and  older  till 
the  two  eldest  were  really  withered.  He  was  a  hard  man, 
and  it  never  entered  his  head  that  every  created  thing  will 
have  its  rights.  Well,  one  fine  day  he  heard  that  the 
king's  son  was  passing  through  Hilligenlei  incognito, 
with  only  a  few  companions,  and  wanted  to  spend  the 
night  at  his  house,  he  being  mayor.  So  he  informed  his 
daughters. ' ' 

Little  Tina  craned  her  neck  to  see  mother  and  child. 
In  doing  so  she  moved  the  door,  which  gave  a  short, 
sharp  creak.  Rieke  Thomson  looked  up.  "Does  Lisa 
want  anything?  " 

"No,"  said  the  little  girl;  "she  looks  as  red  as  an 
apple  on  a  tree." 

"We're  just  coming,"  said  Stiena,  nodding  lovingly 
towards  the  bedroom.  "  One  more  cup,  please,  Rieke." 

' '  There  you  are,  Stiena.     Go  on  with  your  story. ' ' 

"When  the  mayor's  three  elder  daughters  were  going 
to  bed  that  night  the  eldest  said  that  the  visit  was  a  great 
honour,  the  second  that  they  must  put  out  the  damask 
table  linen,  and  the  third  that  she  should  put  on  her  blue 
silk  gown.  But  the  three  younger  sisters  reflected  on  the 
meaning  of  love.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  they  did  that  every 
evening,  but  more  so  this  evening  than  usual.  The  eldest 
combed  her  hair  and  drew  up  her  full  figure  in  front  of 
the  mirror  and  thought,  '  He  is  eight-and-twenty  and 


HOLYLAND  7 

handsome.  How  stupid  that  a  king's  son  may  only  woo 
a  king's  daughter.'  The  second  sat  on  the  edge  of  her 
bed  in  her  wide,  white  nightgown,  and  bent  down  her 
head  till  she  could  see  the  whole  of  her  beautiful  body 
from  neck  to  knee,  and  thought,  should  she  be  wrinkled 
and  spotty  and  shrunk  like  her  eldest  sister  in  ten  years' 
time?  She  shuddered  at  the  thought,  and  hardly  knew 
what  to  think  of  the  world.  So  she  lay  down  and  slept. 
The  third,  the  youngest  of  all,  was  Susie,  and  she  was 
one-and-twenty.  She  lay  full  length  on  her  back,  her 
two  hands  in  her  thick,  golden-brown  hair,  in  bitter 
trouble.  In  the  summer  she  had  gone  over  a  great  deal 
to  the  old  clergyman's  wife,  who  lived  near  the  church- 
yard. There  she  had  lain  on  the  grass  in  the  garden 
under  a  hazel  bush  with  the  son,  a  student,  while  he 
whistled  like  a  chaffinch  and  told  her  how  the  hazel 
blossomed  and  made  a  wedding-feast,  and  he  kissed  her 
and  went  away.  Since  then  she  had  silently  fought  a 
fierce  fight  against  God  and  man,  thinking,  with  bitter 
resentment  in  her  heart,  '  The  Holy  Trinity  and  the 
world  are  wronging  me  hideously. '  And  this  evening 
her  misery  was  acute,  for  her  father  had  privately  said  to 
her,  '  I  want  the  prince  to  remember  our  house  with 
particular  pleasure  so  that  by  his  help  I  may  get  pro- 
motion to  the  capital  and  a  better  post.  I  know  he  likes 
beautiful,  clever  women.  You  are  the  cleverest  and  the 
most  beautiful.  To-morrow  evening  you  shall  sit  by 
him.'  Therefore,  as  she  lay  full  length  in  bed  she  re- 
solved, '  If  he  chooses  he  shall  tell  me  all  the  things  I 
don't  know  and  want  to  know.'  ' 

Tina  craned  her  neck  to  see  the  mother  and  child.  In 
doing  so  she  moved  the  door,  and  it  gave  a  short,  sharp 
creak. 

Rieke  looked  up.     "  Does  Lisa  want  anything?  " 
"No,"  said  the  girl,  "  but  she's  as  white  as  chalk." 
"We're  just  coming,"  said  Stiena,  nodding  her  head 
lovingly    towards    the    bedroom.     "  I'll   get    to    the   end 
quickly.     One  more  cup,  please,  Rieke." 

Rieke  poured  it  out.  Hule  Beiderwand  came  in  again 
and  took  up  his  usual  position  at  the  window  without 
saying  anything.  "  Drink  it  off  and  go  on  with  your 
story." 

"The  next  day  the  prince  came,  and  in  the  evening  he 


8  HOLYLAND 

sat  next  to  Susie  and  found  her  charming.  As  sure  as 
she  laughed  at  what  he  said  he  bowed  and  looked  quite 
serious.  As  sure  as  she  was  quiet  and  serious  he  laughed 
and  gave  her  more  wine.  When  they  got  up  he  gave  her 
his  hand  and  whispered  a  few  words.  Her  sisters  thought 
it  some  compliment,  but  he  had  said  a  bad  word  to 
her.  When  all  in  the  house  were  gone  to  bed  she  slipped 
secretly  out  of  her  room  and  downstairs.  The  next  morn- 
ing the  eldest  sister  found  her  sitting  in  the  arbour,  her 
hands  pressed  together  on  her  lap,  staring  at  the  ground 
in  front  of  her.  The  prince  rode  away.  She  waited  for 
a  letter  or  a  message,  but  none  came.  Then  she  advised 
her  two  younger  sisters  to  rebel  against  their  father  and 
marry  some  simple  tradesman.  She  went  secretly  to 
Hamburg,  where  she  lived  with  simple  folk,  and  made  a 
hard  living  by  sewing,  and  gave  birth  to  a  girl.  For  eight 
or  nine  years  she  lived  with  these  people,  some  say 
quietly  and  alone,  happy  with  her  little  girl ;  others  say 
visited  from  time  to  time  by  officers.  Anyhow,  she  died 
young.  The  ten-year-old  girl  was  sent  first  to  Hilligenlei, 
but  by  that  time  the  mayor  was  dead.  Then  they  sent 
her  to  the  five  sisters,  but  they  had  entered  a  superior 
cloister,  where  they  made  crochet  table-covers.  Their 
sister's  child  horrified  them.  Comforted  by  the  parson, 
they  despatched  her  back  to  Hilligenlei.  She  grew  up 
there  among  simple  folk,  and  developed  uncommon  intel- 
ligence. Sometimes  she  was  proud  and  reserved,  then 
suddenly  feverishly  gay.  When  she  was  twenty  she  went 
the  same  way  as  her  mother.  Her  daughter,  my  mother, 
bore  me  out  of  wedlock,  and  I  was  not  married  myself." 

The  little  girl,  heavy  with  sleep,  stirred  now  that  the 
story  was  at  an  end.  The  door  gave  a  sharp  creak. 
Rieke  moved  her  clumsy  body.  "Does  Lisa  want  any- 
thing?" 

"  No.     She  is  lying  quite  still,  as  yellow  as  wax." 

Then  Rieke,  supporting  her  hands  on  the  arms  of  her 
chair,  got  slowly  on  to  her  legs  and  went  thoughtfully  up 
into  the  bedroom,  holding  on  to  the  sides  of  the  door. 

Stiena  remained  at  the  table  nodding  her  head  and 
smiling  sweetly,  listening  to  some  joyous  music.  The 
bead  fringe  rattled  gently,  and  the  strings  swayed  ele- 
gantly. So  she  sat,  dreaming,  "It's  a  nobleman;  I'm 
sure  of  it." 


HOLYLAND  9 

Hule  stood  by  the  window  gazing  out  into  the  stormy 
night.  After  a  while  Rieke  came  down  the  stairs  with 
the  child  in  her  arms,  and  sat  down  again,  breathing  hard, 
in  her  big  chair  by  the  table,  saying,  in  a  choked  voice, 
' '  Lisa  is  dead. ' ' 

Stiena  uttered  a  piercing  yell,  calling  God  and  men  to 
witness. 

Hule  had  turned  away  from  the  window  and  gone  up 
into  the  bedroom.  Coming  down  again  stiffly  after  a 
short  absence  he  said,  shaking  his  head,  "What  a  mis- 
fortune." 

Rieke  pushed  back  her  cup  sharply.  "  Be  quiet,"  she 
said;  "I  don't  want  to  hear  another  word." 

But  the  old  man  was  not  to  be  baulked.  "What  a 
mass  of  sin  have  we  here.  The  king's  son  and  the  mayor 
and  all  those  who  have  committed  outrage,  the  farmer 
who  drove  her  away,  and  you  two,  who  paid  no  heed  to 
her  !  This  town  is  called  Hilligenlei,  Holyland,  but  never 
have  I  seen  a  man  here  free  of  sin  and  sorrow." 

Rieke  struck  the  table  sharply,  and  said,  in  a  breaking 
voice,  "  I  won't  hear  it.  Christ  our  Lord  redeemed  us 
with  His  blood.  That  I  have  learnt,  and  that  I  stand 
by." 

'  What  then?  "  said  the  old  man.  '  Is  there  a  single 
man  in  Hilligenlei  or  along  the  dyke  who  is  redeemed, 
who  is  holy?  Think  of  all  the  lazy,  thoughtless,  stupid 
people  in  the  town.  But,  I  say  unto  you,  one  day  a  brave 
man  will  come  who  will  rise  up  like  a  judge  in  Israel  and 
bow  the  whole  land  beneath  his  sword  until  it  is  holy  in 
deed  as  in  name." 

At  this  moment  Tina  shot  in  at  the  door,  and,  throwing 
a  postcard  on  the  table,  was  off  again.  ' '  The  postman 
brought  it  to  us  because  you  weren't  at  home,  Stiena." 

Stiena  snatched  up  the  card,  wiping  the  tears  from  her 
eyes  to  read  the  address.  "To  Stiena  Dusenschon  in 
Hilligenlei. "  When  she  turned  it  over  it  was  painted  with 
bright  flowers.  In  the  little  fore  space  were  the  words, 
"  You  have  no  idea  of  it  " — at  that  time  a  slang  phrase. 

"Oh,  look  here,"  she  said,  wiping  away  her  tears, 
"look!  this  is  from  him.  What  a  pretty  card.  I  have 
no  idea — no  idea  of  what?  that  he  is  a  rich  man — no.  I 
have  no  idea.  Rieke,  he's  a  nobleman.  He'll  come  in 
his  carriage  and  fetch  away  the  child,  and  me  too." 


io  HOLYLAND 

Rieke  took  the  card  and  looked  at  it  and  said,  "It's  a 
pretty  card,  and  the  writing  is  good,  but  it  would  be 
better  if  there  were  a  name  on  it." 

"Who  or  what  his  father  is  does  not  matter  in  the 
least,"  said  the  old  man.  "  What  does  matter  is  that  he 
should  help  to  make  this  land,  this  Hilligenlei,  more  holy, 
that's  it." 

"Always  at  that,"  said  Rieke,  crossly.  "I  say,  with 
a  father  who  writes  a  postcard  like  that,  and  a  Dusen- 
schon  for  his  mother,  he  will  be  something,  that's  certain. 
Come,  Stiena,  let's  consult  the  cards.  Good  heavens, 
what  one  has  to  go  through  in  this  life !  They're  on  the 
top  shelf." 

"  Oh,  yes,"  said  Stiena,  getting  up  so  quickly  that  the 
bonnet  strings  swayed  and  the  bead  fringe  rose  in  waves. 
"Consult  the  cards.  Lord,  how  I  wonder!  " 

Next  morning  Rieke  was  once  more  sitting  in  her  big 
armchair  by  the  hearth  with  her  foot-warmer  smoking  a 
little,  and  she  looked  eagerly  across  to  the  harbour- 
master's house,  expecting  her  summons  to  come  at  last. 
So  she  waited  for  four  days,  visited  meantime  by  some 
twenty  women,  old  and  young,  who  drank  coffee  with 
her.  She  complained  of  her  loneliness,  and  began  to  be 
secretly  angry  with  the  child.  On  the  morning  of  the 
fifth  day,  when  she  had  just  taken  up  her  usual  position 
on  the  throne,  Harbourmaster  Lau  came  across  the  street, 
burst  open  a  window  with  his  great  paw  so  that  the  fasten- 
ing jumped  off,  and  said,  in  his  calm,  comfortable  way, 
"  The  boy  arrived  last  night." 

She  threw  herself  stiffly  up  and  regarded  him  sharply 
out  of  her  round  eyes.  "  Why  didn't  you  send  for  me?  " 

"Well,"  said  Lau,  "the  boy  said  it  wasn't  necessary; 
he  could  help  himself.  There  are  the  fifteen  pence,"  and 
he  counted  the  midwife's  fee  on  to  the  window-sill. 

' '  That  boy  will  be  a  good-for-nothing  weathercock,  I 
can  tell  you  that. ' ' 

The  big  harbourmaster  laughed  in  his  fair  beard  and 
went  off.  Then  Rieke  remembered  that  fifteen  pence  were 
owing  her  from  Stiena.  She  waited  till  Stiena  came  one 
day  to  drink  a  cup  of  coffee  with  her,  and  then  said,  "  The 
fifteen  pence,  please." 

Stiena  swayed  a  little  as  if  to  some  wonderful,  festal 
music,  and  said,  with  an  acid  sweetness,  "  I  told  you  such 


HOLYLAND  n 

a  lovely  story  while  Lisa  was  dying.  You  don't  get  any 
money  from  me.  Look,  I've  got  a  new  fringe  made,  and 
Fve  bought  new  bonnet  strings  for  myself." 

From  this  time  little  Dusenschon  was  in  Rieke's  bad 
books,  although  the  cards  had  foretold  him  good — wealth 
and  honour.  She  told  all  her  visitors  he  would  come  to 
nothing. 

So  the  two  children,  the  little  Dusensch6n  and  the  little 
Lau,  grew  up  together  and  became  friends.  When  they 
filled  the  street  with  their  noise  Rieke  Thomson  would 
rise  in  her  big  chair,  and  sometimes  even  get  up  heavily, 
open  the  window,  and  shout  to  the  little  Lau  boy,  "You 
weathercock  !  "  and  to  little  Tjark  Dusenschon,  "  You 
haven't  even  paid  your  midwife's  fee!"  What  could 
two  little  boys  do?  What  use  was  it  for  the  harbour- 
master to  call  to  his  boy  with  his  big,  comfortable  laugh, 
"  Don't  let  yourself  be  put  upon,  my  boy  !  "  or  for  Stiena 
to  come  to  the  door  with  flying  bonnet  strings  and  cry 
out  in  a  sweet  voice,  "  Tja-ark,  Tj-a-a-rk,  my  sweet  boy, 
come  quickly  to  your  granny." 

Next  door  to  the  harbourmaster,  and  on  the  other  side 
from  the  long  house,  lived  a  smith  called  John  Frederick 
Buhmann.  In  Hilligenlei  they  called  him  Jeff  for  short. 
He  was  a  very  big  man  with  wild,  uncombed  hair  and  a 
face  black  all  over  except  for  the  yellow  whites  of  his 
eyes  and  his  yellow  teeth.  His  great,  tall  frame  looked 
as  if  it  were  falling  to  pieces,  only  held  together  by  the 
big,  stiff  apron  of  blackish-brown  leather.  He  looked 
all  right  from  the  front,  but  from  behind  quite  dreadful, 
for  the  apron  did  not  meet,  and  he  was,  so  to  speak, 
without  sidepieces,  nothing  but  a  mass  of  loose,  shabby 
trouser,  and  a  thin  strap  of  worn-out  leather  hanging  down 
from  the  apron.  Everyone  knows  what  an  elephant  looks 
like  from  behind. 

All  the  little  street  children  were  frightened  of  him,  for 
as  they  passed  he  used  to  crawl  out  of  the  smithy  half- 
doubled  up,  bellowing  fearfully,  and  shake  his  great,  black 
fist  at  them.  Really,  he  was  not  a  bad  fellow,  but  a  fool, 
and  a  childish  fool  at  that,  and  lazy. 

One  day,  when  the  two  children  were  about  six  years 
old,  he  enticed  them  into  the  smithy  and  became  their 
friend  and  protector  against  the  fat  woman.  Many  were 
the  hours  they  spent  with  him — outside  on  the  bench  by 


12  HOLYLAND 

the  wall  in  summer,  on  the  anvil  by  the  hearth,  often 
quite  cold,  in  winter.  One  day  Tjark  brought  the  post- 
card which  had  come  to  his  grandmother  on  the  day  of 
his  birth.  A  long  consultation  ensued.  For  hours  the 
big  smith  rumpled  his  wild  hair  with  his  big,  sooty  hands 
and  pondered,  holding  the  card  up  against  the  sunlight, 
to  discover  hidden  writing  or  secret  signs.  Then  suddenly 
he  would  look  up  from  the  writing  to  fix  his  wild,  soot- 
circled  eyes  on  Tjark 's  face,  searching  for  a  likeness  to 
any  well-known  man  in  Hilligenlei.  Then,  shaking  his 
head,  he  would  say,  "  You  have  no  idea  of  it,  no  idea 

Little  Tjark  sat  opposite  him,  gazing  at  him  with  big, 
sparkling  eyes  till  the  profound  brooding  of  the  big,  wild 
smith  went  so  to  his  heart  that  he  burst  into  tears,  where- 
upon little  Lau  scolded  and  beat  him,  and  thus  Tjark  grew 
good  at  crying  and  Lau  good  at  his  fists. 

But  Hule  Beiderwand,  the  old  orderly  on  the  Kiel  and 
Gottorp  road,  standing  at  the  window  of  the  long  house, 
looking  at  the  two  boys,  soon  saw  that  Tjark  was  not  the 
right  one.  He  was  indolent.  So  for  a  time  he  set  his 
hopes  on  Pe  Ontjes  Lau.  The  lad  was  well  built,  and 
carried  himself  well.  He  was  calm  and  self-reliant,  and 
showed  a  gift  for  ruling.  One  day,  however,  Max 
Wieber,  the  schoolmaster  at  the  harbour  school,  told  him 
that  it  was  quite  impossible  to  get  twice  two  into  Lau's 
head.  So  Hule  gave  up  this  hope  too.  The  man  who 
was  to  redeem  the  whole  land  from  sloth  and  injustice  and 
other  imperfection  must  know  his  elements. 

So  the  old  man  turned  away  from  the  window  back  to 
the  bedside  of  his  brother.  He  had  taken  over  the  task 
of  looking  after  him  from  his  parents  when  he  was  a 
young  farmer  fifty  years  ago.  From  his  youth  up  he  had 
been  lame,  and  for  the  last  thirty  years  confined  to  bed. 
Hule  sat  down  by  his  side  and  read  aloud  to  him  from 
the  Bible  and  the  hymn  book  and  Luther.  He  did  not 
give  up  hope.  He  waited  for  a  young  couple  to  come  and 
live  in  the  long  house,  or  perhaps  foe  new  life  over  there 
in  the  Friestadt  school-house,  where  a  lonely  old  pair  now 
lived,  to  send  the  well-known  light  across  the  bay.  For 
he  thought  to  himself  that  up  there  on  the  open  dyke,  face 
to  face  with  the  wide  sea,  now  as  ligh't  as  the  sunshine, 
now  as  gloomy  as  fear  itself,  the  child  was  to  be  born. 


CHAPTER    II 

WILLIAM  BOJE,  the  new  teacher,  who  came  when  the  old 
man  died  over  at  Friestadt  on  the  dyke,  knew  nothing-  of 
women.  Once  he  had  touched  the  hand  of  a  friend's  sister, 
as  if  by  mistake,  just  to  know  what  it  would  feel  like. 
But  then  he  was  very  young;  he  was  twenty-four  now. 
He  had  looked  forward  eagerly  to  his  first  post,  picturing 
to  himself  with  delight  how,  after  school  was  over  and 
he  had  taken  a  walk  along  the  dyke,  he  should  read  the 
glorious  books  he  had  collected  in  his  student  days — the 
story  of  Odysseus,  the  soul-stirring  dramas  of  Macbeth 
and  Faust,  and  Robinson  Crusoe.  These  and  a  few  others 
seemed  to  picture  forth  the  whole  drama  of  life  as  in  a 
mirror. 

By  March  he  had  not  been  four  months  in  the  big, 
empty  house  when  he  fell  in  love.  How  it  happened  he 
did  not  know.  It  was  a  time  of  happy  misery.  He  would 
stand  in  front  of  his  bookcase  and  feel  for  a  book,  but 
though  his  eyes  remained  fixed  upon  the  pages, 
his  thoughts  were  soon  far  away.  Suddenly  a 
thrill  of  such  intense  rapture  passed  through  him 
that  he  had  to  put  the  book  down,  and,  plunging  his 
hands  in  his  fair  hair,  cry  aloud  for  sheer  happiness.  So 
joyful  did  the  thought  cf  her  make  him ;  so  deep  was  his 
love,  though  his  eyes  had  never  yet  beheld  her. 

He  would  often  go  into  the  big  front  room  and  picture 
her  to  himself  living  with  him.  There,  against  the  wall, 
would  be  the  sofa;  there  they  would  sit  in  the  evenings 
while  he  kissed  her  and  held  her  in  his  arms.  Out  of  the 
room  he  went  into  the  passage,  and  felt  in  the  cupboard. 
"  There  her  Sunday  dress  will  hang."  Then  into  the 
kitchen,  where  he  stood  before  the  fire,  to  one  side,  so  as 
not  to  be  in  her  way,  and  heard  her  scolding,  saying  she 


i4  HOLYLAND 

could  not  have  anyone  watch  her  while  she  cooked.  Then 
info  the  garden,  where  he  called  her,  but  she  did  not 
answer,  looked  for  her,  to  find  her  at  last  hiding  under 
the  gooseberry  bushes.  When  he  scolded  her  for  eating 
the  unripe  fruit  she  said  she  had  not  eaten  any,  though  the 
skins  on  the  ground  betrayed  her.  "  Oh,  what  a  child 
you  are;  what  a  funny,  darling  child  !  "  In  the  evening, 
before  going  to  bed,  he  went  in  to  the  empty  middle  room, 
and  love's  longing  pictured  her  standing  by  his  side.  Her 
stately  figure  was  full  of  youthful  vigour;  beneath  the 
thick,  hanging  masses  of  her  smooth,  fair  hair  were  proud, 
elusive  eyes  that  looked  at  him  neither  sweetly  nor  kindly, 
but  with  a  clear,  intelligent  gaze.  Then,  with  a  sudden 
movement,  she  lifted  up  her  arms  and  put  them  round  his 
neck,  all  sweetness,  and  God's  most  beautiful  creation  was 
revealed  to  his  sight.  So  clear  was  her  image  in  his  soul, 
though  he  knew  not  who  she  was.  It  was  a  time  of  happy 
misery. 

At  last  a  day  came  when  his  restlessness  seemed  to 
reach  its  height.  All  day  long  he  thought  of  her,  and  in 
the  evening  he  seemed  to  be  leaning  over  her  bed  and 
saying,  in  an  affectionate  tone  he  did  not  recognise  as  his 
own,  "Darling,  the  girl  shall  be  Heinke  and  the  boy 
Pete." 

He  grew  afraid  of  his  thoughts.  "  Never  mind.  Thank 
Heaven  I  live  in  a  world  where  girls  are  plentiful  as  black- 
berries. I  will  search  for  my  dream-girl  and  marry  her." 

The  very  next  day  he  heard  that  there  was  a  dance  in 
Hilligenlei,  so  when  Harbourmaster  Lau  came  over  with 
his  boat  he  went  back  with  him. 

Among  the  young  girls  sitting  round  the  hall  as  he 
entered  was  one  very  like  his  dream-picture.  Tall  and 
stately,  with  fair  hair,  as  she  rose  for  the  dance  her  fresh 
young  beauty  clad  her  like  some  royal  garment.  As  she 
passed  by  him  in  its  course  he  saw  in  her  beautiful,  deep 
eyes  the  mingled  pride  and  shyness  of  an  innocent  soul, 
and  he  loved  her  more  and  more.  His  soul  went  out  to 
her,  full  of  joyful  love,  as  he  sat,  lost  in  admiration  of  the 
beauty  of  her  strong  figure  and  her  sweet,  open  face. 

She  happened  to  stop  quite  near  him,  and,  turning  her 
eyes  shyly  to  where  the  men  were  as  she  passed  on  her 
partner's  arm,  met  his,  only  to  turn  away  with  lowered 
head  as  a  dove  before  the  hawk,  thinking,  "  What  a  fine, 


HOLYLAND  15 

tall  man;  and  how  he  stares  at  me.  If  he  would  only 
dance  with  me  !  " 

The  dance  in  the  hall  was  an  informal  affair,  for  young 
Ringerang,  the  host,  was  nothing  of  a  manager.  There 
was  a  perfect  rush  when  the  music  began,  for  all  the 
young  men  swarmed  round  the  favourites.  After  two 
unsuccessful  attempts  to  reach  her  William  had  to  content 
himself  with  looking  on. 

She  had  watched  him  closely  out  of  the  corners  of  her 
eyes.  Now  that  she  was  dancing  again  confused  thoughts 
passed  through  her  woman's  mind.  "I'll  do  it.  No,  I 
can't  do  it.  To-day,  now,  he  is  here,  and  I  may  never 
see  him  again  in  my  life.  I  am  going  to  do  it."  Her 
shoe  flew  off  at  his  feet.  "Oh,"  she  cried,  with  a  faint 
scream,  "my  shoe  is  off."  She  turned  to  her  partner. 
"There  is  no  good  thinking  of  dancing  any  more;  the 
strap  is  broken."  She  made  him  a  low  curtsey,  and  he, 
being  young  and  foolish,  went  away. 

"  If  you  can't  dance  any  more,"  said  William,  in  a  low, 
difficult  voice,  "  come  with  me." 

She  laid  her  hand  on  his  arm  and  said,  softly,  "Let's 
go  outside,  not  into  the  refreshment  room." 

"I  will  go  on, ".he  said,  in  a  low  tone,  "come  after 
me." 

Delayed  on  the  way  by  the  crowd,  when  he  came  out  of 
doors  into  the  shadow  of  the  lofty  chestnut  trees  he  did 
not  immediately  see  her  standing  on  the  little  bridge  that 
led  over  the  castle  moat  into  the  park.  The  castle  itself 
is  no  longer  there. 

She  laid  her  arm  in  his.  "  My  father  is  here,  in  Hilli- 
genlei.  He  will  scold  if  he  sees  me  !  " 

"  Never  mind  that  now,"  said  he. 

She  laughed  softly.     "I'm  not  to  talk  about  that?  " 

"No." 

"What  about,  then?" 

"  Whether  you  like  me  a  little." 

She  bent  her  head  and  said,  hesitatingly,  "  Do  you  like 
me,  then?  " 

"  Dear,  I  have  never  kissed  anyone,  never  held  anyone 
in  my  arms.  Love  to  me  is  serious." 

Once  more  she  bent  her  head  and  cast  her  eyes  upon 
the  ground,  saying,  shyly,  "Yes,  to  me,  too,  it  is  the 
most  serious  thing  in  the  world." 


16  HOLYLAND 

Then  he  stood  still  and  took  hold  of  her  hand.  "  Only 
look  up,  only  look  at  me,"  he  begged. 

But  she  still  kept  her  head  bent,  shy  of  showing  a  face 
which  she  knew  confessed  in  its  confusion  love's  sudden 
coming. 

The  light,  penetrating  through  the  moving  branches, 
played  upon  her  hair.  He  put  his  hand  upon  her  forehead, 
bent  back  her  head,  imploring,  "Come  to  me,"  kissed 
her  timidly,  kissed  her  again  and  again  while  she  stood 
still  with  eyes  cast  down.  She  nestled  to  his  side,  both 
hands  on  his  arm,  as  she  walked  on  slowly  by  his  side, 
her  eyes  once  more  upon  the  ground. 

"Does  your  father  dislike  your  going  to  dances?  " 

"  Yes ;  he  wants  to  keep  us  all  at  home,  to  save  paying 
wages.  Our  farm  is  heavily  mortgaged.  My  eldest  sister 
has  grown  cold  with  age  already." 

He  was  furious.  "  That  mustn't  happen  to  you.  You 
are  not  to  be  an  old  maid,  darling. " 

"  I  don't  want  to,  indeed;  but  who  wants  me?  " 

"  It  all  depends  on  whom  you  want;  that's  what 
matters.  Do  turn  your  eyes  to  me  for  once.  Look  up ; 
look  at  me.  Ah,  don't  be  afraid.  There.  Oh !  what 
dear  blue  eyes  they  are.  Only  tell  me  what  he  must  look 
like,  the  man  you  love?  " 

For  a  while  she  looked  at  him,  without  moving,  with  a 
kind  of  friendly  curiosity.  Then,  in  shy  surrender,  she 
raised  her  hands  as  if  to  put  them  on  his  shoulder.  The 
action  still  incomplete,  she  murmured,  with  an  exquisite 
embarrassment,  "  Something  like  you." 

"  Darling,"  he  answered,  stroking  her  hair. 

As  they  stood  thus,  lost  in  gazing  into  each  other's 
eyes,  a  step  came  under  the  chestnut  trees.  A  heavy, 
broad-shouldered  man,  dressed  like  a  workman,  passed 
them,  saying,  in  a  raucous  voice,  "  You  come  home  with 
me." 

Without  a  word  she  left  Boje  and  followed  her  father 
till  they  disappeared  down  the  avenue. 

William  walked  back  round  the  bay  to  Friestadt,  home 
to  his  empty  house.  The  next  day  he  thought,  "  What  a 
confiding  darling  she  was  with  her  dear  little  white  face," 
and  on  the  second  pictured  to  himself  her  living  in  his 
house,  her  whom  now  he  actually  knew.  He  went  through 
all  the  rooms  seeing  her  there.  On  the  third  day  came  a 


HOLYLAND  17 

letter  from  her,  written  in  crooked  letters — kow  could  such 
a  clever  girl  make  such  funny  little  letters, — and  in  such  a 
queer  style,  too !  "I  am  to  marry  my  cousin  from 
Krautstiel.  He  has  a  little  farm  at  the  bottom  of  the 
dyke,  and  father  says  he  does  not  want  a  dowry,  and  if 
they  yoke  together  they  could  save  two  horses  at  plough- 
ing times.  My  cousin  is  still  quite  young,  but  his  skin  is 
like  horn,  and  does  not  feel  human  at  all.  I  suppose  I 
shall  marry  him  though,  for  what  am  I  to  do?  I  shall  get 
away  from  father,  at  any  rate.  My  window  is  the  last  on 
the  side  facing  the  dyke,  looking  west,  but  what  use  is 
that?  The  whole  night  long  I  think  of  the  schoolmaster 
from  Friestadt,  and  I  do  so  want  to  know  if  he  still  cares 
for  me." 

In  the  evening,  when  it  was  dark,  putting  on  a  thick, 
winter  jacket,  he  went  down  to  the  beach,  unfastened  the 
crab-fisherman's  boat,  and  rowed  out  into  the  bay.  With 
the  ebb  tide  flowing  hard  in  that  direction,  he  hoped  to 
reach  Krautstiel  in  an  hour,  returning  in  the  morning  with 
the  incoming  tide.  Getting  into  the  current,  and  keeping 
his  course  by  the  Hilligenlei  lights,  he  gripped  the  oars. 
His  youthful  thoughts  and  the  force  of  the  stream  impelled 
him  on.  When  he  looked  up  again  after  a  time  that 
seemed  to  him  much  shorter  than  it  really  was,  instead 
of  the  herds  of  little  white,  lamb-like  clouds,  a  few  single 
dark  cows  pastured  reflectively  on  the  wide  meadow  of 
the  sky.  On  his  right  the  dyke,  which  had  stood  up  in 
front  of  him  a  clear  dark  line,  had  disappeared.  This 
troubled  him,  and  he  worked  hard  at  his  oars  with  the  idea 
of  getting  back  to  it. 

A  bitter  wind  rose,  the  direction  of  which  he  could  not  dis- 
cover. On  every  side  nothing  but  the  grey  and  black  of 
the  waves,  growing  bigger  and  bigger  as  they  rolled  more 
quietly  past !  Above,  the  sky  was  growing  clearer.  The 
cold  was  intense.  "She  shall  pay  for  this,  yes,  she 
shall,"  he  said  to  himself,  as,  angry  and  weary,  he 
abandoned  all  hope  of  reaching  his  goal,  and  resolved  to 
keep  himself  warm  until  the  morning  grey  appeared,  and 
avoid  being  driven  too  far  out  to  sea  by  rowing  against 
the  stream.  Hardly  was  the  idea  conceived  when  he 
became  aware  of  a  wonderfully  clear  light,  or  a  tower,  it 
seemed,  in  front  of  him.  The  tower,  too,  in  the  very 
heart  of  the  raging  sea,  seemed  to  sway  as  its  light,  fiery 

c 


i8  HOLYLAND 

red,  swung  on  high  as  on  a  mast.  Open-eyed  and  open- 
mouthed,  he  made  straight  for  it — one,  two Good 

heavens  !  It  was  the  lightship — the  lightship  that  stood 
outside  the  bay.  Was  he  so  far  out  of  his  way?  He 
rowed  right  up  to  it,  fastened  his  boat  to  a  rope,  and 
climbed  on  deck. 

Two  sailors  were  leaning  over  the  taffrail. 

' '  Hallo  !  ' '  said  one  of  them.  ' '  Where  have  you  sprung 
from?  " 

"  I  am  schoolmaster  Boje  from  Friestadt.  I  lost  my 
way  trying  to  get  to  Hilligenlei. " 

"That's  not  true,"  said  the  sailor.  "You  were  on 
your  way  to  Krautstiel  to  see  Hella  Anderson  !  " 

Boje  stared  with  the  deep-set,  clever  eyes  sparkling  in 
the  sailor's  weather-beaten  face.  "  How  on  earth  do  you 
know  that?  " 

"  I  am  Thomas  Jans.  My  wife  wrote  to  me  how  Hella 
danced  out  of  her  slipper.  She  knows  her  quite  well,  for 
she  has  been  in  service  up  there  at  the  farm." 

' '  What  was  your  wife  doing  at  the  dance  with  you  on 
the  lightship?  " 

"Well,  you  see,  we've  got  three  children,  so  she  earns 
a  bit.  She's  a  chambermaid  up  at  Ringerang's.  Come, 
you're  simply  frozen." 

On  the  companion  were  the  captain  and  lieutenant. 
They  shook  their  heads  over  Boje's  story,  and,  after  say- 
ing to  Jans,  "You  can  take  him  ashore,"  troubled  no 
further  about  him. 

He  sat  down  in  the  cabin,  on  the  extreme  edge  of  a  sea- 
chest,  with  the  faint  warmth  of  the  little  stove  between  his 
knees,  his  teeth  chattering,  and  his  whole  body  trembling 
with  cold.  "  Have  you  been  long  on  the  lightship?  " 

"  Three  years  now,"  said  Thomas. 

"  How  on  earth  can  you  endure  it?  Three  years  away 
from  your  wife !  If  it  were  a  thousand  miles  away,  per- 
haps; but  only  two — it  must  be  the  very  devil." 

"Yes,  it  is  that;  but  what's  to  be  done?"  said  the 
sailor. 

"  How  do  you  mean?  " 

"Well,  look  here.  To  begin  with,  there's  very  little 
work  going  in  Hilligenlei ;  nothing  at  all  in  winter  for  ten 
or  twelve  weeks ;  the  whole  place  goes  to  sleep,  as  you 
know.  Well — well,  you  see — in  the  first  three  years  we 


HOLYLAND  19 

had  three  girls  right  off,  so  I  thought,  is  it  to  go  on  like 
that?" 

"  So  that's  why  you  went  on  the  lightship?  " 

"  Just  so." 

"And  these  three  years  you  haven't  been  near  your 
wife?" 

"  I've  been  over  now  and  then — every  six  weeks  or  so; 
but  I  kept  away  from  her,  do  you  understand?  " 

"You're  mad,"  said  Boje,  drawing  the  stove  nearer, 
"  quite  mad.  You're  not  living  at  all. " 

"Yes,"  said  Thomas,  looking  at  Boje  from  under  his 
clever,  deep-set  eyes.  "It  is  bad  enough;  my  life  isn't 
worth  living.  But  look  here.  Suppose  a  boy  came.  The 
three  girls  are  all  right.  They  are  sure  to  marry,  some- 
how; but  if  it  were  a  boy?  " 

"  A  boy?     Be  glad,  man,  be  glad  1  " 

"That's  all  very  well,  but  what  is  to  become  of  him? 
Look  here.  When  I  was  a  kid  I  always  wanted  to  be 
learning.  I  never  got  enough  of  reading  and  learning. 
The  schoolmaster  said  to  my  father,  '  It's  a  pity  the  boy 
must  go  to  the  fields,'  but  when  I  was  ten  I  had  to  go. 
My  learning  then  was  over  just  when  it  should  have  begun 
— absolutely  over.  Well,  seven  years  ago,  just  after  I  came 
back  from  the  army,  I  was  with  Hargen  Jansen,  in  Siider- 
wisch,  you  know,  and  his  brother,  the  parson,  came  to 
see  him.  I  had  to  go  about  with  him  all  over  the  place, 
down  to  the  sea,  up  to  the  inland  villages,  while  he  tried 
to  find  out  all  his  childish  haunts ;  and  in  these  three  days, 
while  I  drove  beside  him  in  the  cart,  he  talked  about 
everything  in  heaven  and  earth  and  learned  folks'  ideas 
about  it :  about  religion  and  the  State,  Parliament  and  self- 
government,  trade  and  industry  and  agriculture.  But  he 
didn't  give  me  any  pleasure.  When  the  three  days  came 
to  an  end  and  I  went  back  to  the  stables,  and  was  alone 
again  in  the  evenings  in  the  room  beside  the  horses,  I 
can  tell  you  I  have  never  been  so  unhappy  in  my  life, 
for  that's  how  it  is  and  how  it  will  always  be.  Do  you 
understand?  A  big,  empty  house  in  one's  head,  no 
wall  paper,  no  windows,  no  furniture,  no  one  living 
in  it  at  all — do  you  see  what  I  mean?  Well,  girls 
can  manage;  they  don't  demand  so  much;  but  a 
boy — is  he  to  go  into  that  misery?  is  he  to  have  that 
hideous,  empty  house  in  his  head  all  his  life?  Do 


20  HOLYLAND 

you  see?  Well,  then,  you  know  why  I  sit  here  on  the 
lightship." 

"  Do  you  love  your  wife?  "  said  Boje. 

"I  should  think  so,  the  dear  little  woman." 

Resting  his  head  on  both  hands,  he  fell  into  a  brown 
study. 

Three  sailors  came  into  the  cabin  and  sat  down.  One 
of  them  cleaned  his  pipe  while  the  other  two  looked  on, 
saying  nothing.  Thomas  raised  his  head,  and,  as  if 
speaking  his  thoughts  aloud,  said,  "Carpenter,  have  you 
had  a  single  happy  hour  in  your  whole  life?  " 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  the  carpenter.  "  Quite  happy?  " 
no,  I  don't  think  so — perhaps  when  I  was  quite  a  boy." 

"Think,"  said  Thomas. 

"  Man,  you're  as  curious  as  a  child,"  said  the  carpenter, 
working  at  his  pipe.  "Quite  happy?  I  don't  know — 
yes — six  or  seven  years  ago,  after  the  war,  I  went  to 
London  on  a  merchant  steamer.  On  the  way  we  had  a 
strange  experience.  There  was  a  passenger  on  board,  a 
little  man,  whose  face  seemed  to  me  a  bit  Jewish.  One 
evening,  when  I  was  off  duty,  we  had  got  into  a  regular 
nor'wester,  and  he  came  down  to  our  quarters.  Bob 
Stevens  had  just  opened  the  Bible,  so  I  suppose  it  was 
Sunday.  Well,  the  fellow  came  in,  sat  down,  and,  seeing 
the  book,  struck  it  with  his  hand — I  can  see  him  now — 
saying,  '  That's  the  best  book  in  the  world,  but  it's  to 
blame  for  most  of  the  poverty  and  stupidity  there  is  in  it. ' 
Yes,  that's  what  he  said,  as  near  as  possible." 

Thomas  Jans  had  lifted  up  his  heavy  head,  and  his  eyes 
were  fixed  on  the  old  carpenter's  hairy  face.  "  Go  on." 

"  '  The  rich  and  the  parsons,'  said  the  Jew,  '  throw  sand 
in  our  eyes,  and  they  get  their  sand  from  the  Bible. '  Yes, 
that's  what  he  said,  just  that." 

Thomas  stared  at  Boje.     "Well,  schoolmaster?" 

"A  socialist,"  said  Boje.  "I've  heard  of  them;  a 
socialist.  But  that  doesn't  help  me  to  get  to  Krautstiel. " 

"Goon." 

"Well,  what  else  did  he  say?  Everything  was  to  be 
changed,  everything,  and  soon,  too." 

"  I  don't  understand,"  began  Thomas. 

"  Think,  man;  all  equal — that's  what  he  said — all  equal. 
Now,  because  one  rich  man  has  a  big  field  and  a  big  wood 
the  poor  men  have  to  shiver  in  the  streets  with  their  chil- 


HOLYLAND  21 

dren,  or  live  crowded  together  in  a  slum  where  the  sun 
never  shines.  Because  one  rich  man  has  magnificent 
clothes,  travels  all  over  the  world,  buys  his  cnildren  every 
book  they  want,  ten  poor  men  and  their  children  are  op- 
pressed and  ignorant  all  their  lives.  All  that  is  to  be 
changed,  he  said.  The  day  is  over  when  the  nobleman's 
child  rode  in  front  and  the  workman's  child  crawled 
behind.  Let  both  sit  on  the  horse  and  see  which  can  ride, 
which  falls  off,  do  you  see?  so  that  the  best  men  can  help 
the  people  on.  See?  That's  what  he  said." 

Thomas  Jans  had  got  up  on  to  his  feet.  "  So  that's 
what  he  said,"  he  asked,  slowly;  "and  there  are  people 
who  believe  it?  " 

"Yes,"  he  said,  "thousands  in  Hamburg  and  Berlin; 
members  of  the  Reichstag,  too." 

1 '  What  was  that  about  the  children  ?  ' '  said  Jans,  staring 
at  him.  ' '  Those  who  have  something  in  their  heads  are 
to  go  up,  that's  it?  " 

"  Yes,  that's  what  he  said." 

"Then,"  said  Thomas,  "that's  it  all  right.  Yes,  by 
Heaven,  I  will — I  will  leave  the  lightship  and  risk  it. 
Come  on,  schoolmaster.  I'll  take  you  to  Krautstiel  and 
go  to  Hilligenlei  from  there." 

The  carpenter  wiped  his  mouth  and  looked  at  the  others. 
"  Risk  it,  will  he?  Risk  what?  " 

They  shook  their  heads.  The  carpenter  went  on : 
"  There  was  once  a  young  fellow  on  the  lightship  just  like 
that.  He  got  quieter  and  quieter,  and  used  to  stare  across 
at  the  Bluesand  buoy — stare  for  hours.  Suddenly  one 
evening  he  said  to  me,  'Carpenter,  isn't  that  my  wife?  ' 
He  actually  thought  that  the  buoy,  a  great  long  thing  at 
least  fifteen  yards  high,  was  his  wife  !  So  I  had  to  bring 
him  on  shore;  a  young  man's  no  good  on  a  lightship. 
Jans  is  gone  quite  silly.  Going  to  risk  it?  What  on 
earth's  he  going  to  risk?  " 

Meantime  the  other  two  had  got  over  the  edge  and  were 
rowing  hard,  thoroughly  soaked  meantime  by  a  cold  rain 
that  had  come  on  hard  and  wet  them  through  by  the  time 
they  got  into  Krautstiel  an  hour  later.  Silent  and  frozen, 
they  walked  along  the  dyke  against  the  biting  wind  until 
Jans  said,  "  That's  the  farm.  Do  you  see?  There,  under 
those  dark  poplars,"  shouting  after  him  as  he  turned  aside 
without  a  word. 


22  HOLYLAND 

"  Hold  hard,  or  the  old  fellow  won't  give  up  his 
girl." 

To  which  Boje  replied,  without  turning  round,  "  Mind 
your  own  business,  and  I'll  look  after  mine." 

Coming  down  to  the  thatched  roof,  before  he  had  had 
time  to  distinguish  the  separate  windows,  he  saw  Hella 
Anderson  sitting  in  the  window-ledge.  She  put  her  arm 
round  him,  then  shrank  back.  "Oh,  how  wet  you  are, 
and  frozen  with  cold.  Come  quickly  inside,  you  dear, 
dear  thing.  You  must  get  into  my  warm  bed;  you're 
simply  perishing  with  cold." 

He  got  in  at  the  window.  "My  darling,"  he  said, 
holding  her  fast  in  his  arms.  ' '  Tell  me,  must  you  marry 
your  cousin,  with  his  horny  skin,  to  save  your  father  two 
horses?  " 

Clinging  fast  to  him,  she  nodded.  "Darling,  don't 
desert  me." 

"  Desert  you?  I  desert  you?  Oh,  how  beautiful  you 
are !  ' ' 

So  he  came  to  her  for  six  weeks,  and  then  she  had  to 
tell  her  father. 

When  the  time  came  a  little  boy  was  born  in  the  long 
house  at  Hilligenlei.  When  Rieke  Thomson  took  him  up 
to  wash  him  she  turned  to  his  mother  and  said,  in  a 
frightened  voice,  "  Look  in  the  middle  of  his  breast;  he's 
got  a  flaming  red  mark,  as  big  and  round  as  a  four- 
shilling  piece.  What  on  earth  is  it?  " 

Thomas  Jans  bent  over  his  weary  little  wife.  "Didst 
hear,  Mala?" 

She  felt  for  his  hand  and  said  :  "All  the  three  years 
that  you  were  away,  especially  at  night,  when  I  lay  in 
bed  and  couldn't  go  to  sleep,  I  used  to  see  the  lightship 
in  my  mind's  eye,  and  the  light  was  always  as  big  and 
round  as  a  four-shilling  piece." 

About  midnight,  when  Rieke  had  looked  after  the  infant 
and  put  it  in  its  mother's  arms,  old  Hule  Beiderwand, 
who  had  been  watching  by  his  brother's  dying  bed, 
knocked  at  the  window  to  say  that  the  light  was  shining 
opposite.  So  off  went  Rieke,  just  as  she  was,  to  help 
Hella  with  her  first  child — a  plump  girl  with  yellow  hair 
like  her  own  that  lay  all  over  the  pillow.  Her  husband 
pressed  her  hand  so  hard  that  she  had  to  beg  him  to 


HOLYLAND  23 

take  care,  so  deeply  did  he  rejoice  in  the  child  that  his 
dear,  lovely,  passionate  wife  had  given  him. 

And  so  the  two  children  grew  up.  The  little  Jans  boy 
grew  up,  in  the  long  house  at  Hilligenlei,  a  delicate  boy, 
but  not  really  weak,  seldom  seeing  his  parents.  His 
mother  worked  at  Ringerangs',  and  his  father  stood  by 
the  edge  of  the  sea,  digging.  When  they  went  away  he 
was  still  asleep;  when  they  came  back  he  was  in  bed. 
Only  on  Sundays  he  sat  on  her  lap,  or  stood  between  her 
knees ;  and  soon  a  time  came  when  he  caught  hold  of 
his  mother's  dress  and  followed  her  all  over  the  big  house 
to  the  last  door. 

There  sat  a  huge,  round  woman.  Everything  about  her 
seemed  round,  especially  her  eyes.  She  drank  coffee  with 
brown  sugar,  and  gave  him  a  lump,  saying  to  his  mother, 
' '  Extraordinary  eyes  that  boy  has ;  always  wondering. 
I  like  the  boy,  all  but  those  eyes  of  his.  What  in  the 
world  is  there  to  wonder  at?  I'll  see  if  the  cards  have 
anything  to  say." 

All  that  the  cards  said  was  that  there  was  not  much 
money,  and,  as  little  Mala  Jans  said  proudly,  "  Happiness 
did  not  depend  on  that." 

Sometimes  he  would  put  his  little  hand  inside  his 
father's  big,  hard  one  and  go  next  door  into  Hule  Beider- 
wand's  room.  He  gave  him  a  bit  of  bread  and  butter 
and  an  old  Bible  story-book  with  astonishing  pictures, 
and  while  he  sat  kneeling  on  a  chair  at  the  window  with 
the  book  on  the  ledge  talking  to  the  pictures  Thomas 
Jans  spoke  of  his  hopes  that  the  new  Labour  party  would 
make  the  world  holy,  and  so  realise  their  old  faith. 

But  the  old  man  had  become  reserved,  and  said,  ob- 
stinately, "No;  a  man  must  live  here  in  the  bay,  here 
on  the  dyke,  and  make  a  Hilligenlei,  a  Holyland,  out  of 
this  place  with  the  power  of  his  might :  that  is  our  faith. ' ' 

He  called  the  child  with  his  high,  hollow  voice  and 
looked  at  him  with  his  darkened  eyes,  saying,  "No;  this 
is  not  the  one;  his  eyes  are  timid;  he  is  afraid,"  and  he 
almost  pushed  the  boy  away. 


CHAPTER    III 

ONE  day,  when  he  was  seven  years  old,  his  mother  said 
she  wanted  to  take  him  across  the  bay.  In  the  house  he 
could  just  see  in  the  distance,  on  the  dyke,  there  lived  a 
little  girl  who  was  just  his  age.  With  observant  eyes 
full  of  a  somewhat  uneasy  wonder  he  followed  his  mother 
down  to  the  pier,  clutching,  as  us-ual,  tightly  hold  of  her 
skirt. 

A  fresh  breeze  came  to  meet  them.  On  the  pier  was 
Pe  Ontjes  Lau,  and  he  had  on  a  woollen  cap  and  wooden 
shoes,  such  as  no  one  else  wore  in  the  whole  bay. 

One  day  a  smack  from  Jutland  had  been  driven  into 
Hilligenlei  by  a  westerly  gale,  and  for  three  days  it  lay  off 
the  pier.  For  a  whole  day  Pe  Ontjes  and  the  Jutlander  had 
sat  opposite  to  one  another  without  speaking  or  moving, 
the  Jutlander  in  his  woollen  cap  and  wooden  shoes  on  the 
hatchway,  Pe  Ontjes  on  land,  on  top  of  a  post,  both  with 
their  hands  up  to  the  elbows  in  their  trousers  pockets. 
The  next  day  Pe  Ontjes  began  to  bargain.  They  got 
on  quite  well  with  low  German  and  low  Danish  and  their 
fingers  to  help  them  out.  With  his  teeth  set  hard,  Pe 
Ontjes  paid  sixteen  good  pence  into  the  Jutlander 's  horny 
yellow  hand.  Half  a  year  later  the  woollen  cap  and  the 
wooden  shoes  came  safely  to  hand,  not  nicely  wrapped 
up,  by  post,  but  handed  from  smack  to  smack  from 
Jutland  right  across  to  Hamburg,  and  so  over  to  Hilli- 
genlei, with  this  address,  no  more,  "On  the  pier  at 
Hilligenlei  is  a  twelve-year-old  boy;  these  are  his." 

From  that  hour  he  had  worn  the  costume  whenever 
there  was  a  cold  wind,  putting  it  on  as  soon  as  he  came 
out  of  school,  and  on  the  understanding  that  there  were 
to  be  no  jeers. 

He  was  standing  now  on  the  bridge,  his  legs  wide  apart, 


HOLYLAND  25 

munching  a  big  piece  of  black  bread,  spread  with  roast 
potato.  To  keep  the  potato  from  blowing  away  he  had 
stuck  it  to  the  bread  with  black  syrup.  He  looked  at  his 
shy  little  neighbour,  clinging  fast  to  his  mother,  up  and 
down  with  a  calm  and  fatherly  air,  and  asked,  "  What 
are  you  going  to  be?  " 

The  little  fellow  looked  at  him  sharply  out  of  his  deep 
blue  eyes.  "  What  are  you  going  to  be?  " 

Pe  Ontjes  was  astonished,  and  began  to  feel  a  certain 
respect  for  Kai.  "  I  am  going  to  sea,  of  course.  In  four 
years  I  shall  be  done  with  school,  and  then  I  am  going 
to  South  America." 

"  You  haven't  chosen  a  very  fine  day,"  said  the  harbour- 
master to  Mala  Jans.  "  The  wind  is  getting  round  to  the 
north." 

"You  must  stick  close  to  the  Danish  coast,  father," 
said  he  of  the  woollen  cap.  ' '  Then  you  can  get  back 
easily. ' ' 

'  Yes,"  said  Lau,  reflectively,  "but  then  it  will  be  late 
and  cold  and  dark,  not  for  little  boys." 

They  embarked  and  made  a  good  start.  Pe  Ontjes 
stood  on  the  bank,  looking  after  them. 

"You  treat  your  boy  as  if  he  were  thirty,"  said  little 
Mala,  in  a  captious  tone. 

"  Yes,"  said  Lau,  "  as  usual,  you  are  right.  My  father 
was  a  day  labourer  in  Eierstadt.  In  my  youth  I  didn't 
learn  reading  or  writing.  Then  I  went  to  sea  and  went 
all  over  the  world,  but  all  the  time  I  cared  for  nothing 
but  eating  and  drinking.  I  often  seemed  to  hear  a 
smothered  voice  within  me  saying,  "  Bestir  yourself,  man ; 
rise  a  little  in  the  world."  But  I  only  began  to  wake  up 
when  I  was  about  forty.  Then  I  looked  about  me  and 
learnt  a  few  things,  passed  the  short-distance  certificate, 
and  so  got  the  post  of  harbourmaster  here.  And  I  can't 
get  any  further.  That's  why,  you  see,  I'm  glad  of  every 
question  that  Pe  Ontjes  asks,  and  why  I  talk  as  seriously 
to  him  as  to  someone  of  my  own  age.  He's  naturally 
rather  a  sluggard  and  no  hero  at  his  books,  just  like  I 
used  to  be,  but  you'll  see  that  having  a  really  sensible 
friend  will  make  things  easier  for  him,  and  he'll  get  on 
better  than  I  have." 

When  Mala  Jans,  holding  her  little  boy  by  the  hand, 
came  into  the  clean  hall  of  the  schoolhouse  and  found  no 


26  HOLYLAND 

one  there  she  blushed  shamefacedly,  and  was  going  to 
slip  quietly  out  of  the  door  when  she  heard  a  voice  from 
the  inner  room,  "Is  that  Mala?  Come  in  here,  I  can't 
get  up." 

So  the  two  went  on  tiptoe  through  the  hall  and  the 
kitchen,  and  found  Hella  Boje  on  a  chair  by  the  window 
in  a  loose,  open  garment  with  a  new-born  babe  at  her 
breast,  the  clear  sunshine  falling  on  the  charming  picture. 

Mala  clasped  her  hands.     ' '  Oh  !  I  had  no  idea  !  ' ' 

Hella  laughed.  "  I  thought  you  did  not  know,  and  I 
was  looking  forward  to  your  astonishment.  A  big  girl, 
isn't  she?  Number  three  already  !  " 

It  was  Wednesday  afternoon,  and  in  came  the  teacher 
fresh  from  his  books.  In  his  beautiful,  steel-grey  eyes 
and  in  his  joyful  bearing  was  something  of  the  reflected 
glory  of  great  and  strange  times  and  extraordinary  events. 
He  called  the  little  boy  to  him,  and,  holding  back  his 
head,  said  to  his  wife,  "What  a  real  old  German  he 
looks.  Like  one  of  Siegfried's  men,  one  of  the  peasants, 
not  the  noblemen.  I  wager  he  will  be  a  dreamer,  like  his 
father."  As  he  said  this  the  night  on  the  fireship  came 
into  his  mind.  "Yes,  I  will  risfb  it,"  and  he  laughed. 

"  But  where  are  your  two  eldest?  "  said  Mala.  "  Not 
ill,  I  hope?" 

"They — ill!"  said  Boje,  and,  getting-  up,  he  led  the 
little  boy  through  the  kitchen,  and,  opening  the  outer 
door,  pointed  out  two  children,  boy  and  girl,  lying  in  the 
long  grass  at  the  edge  of  the  pond,  so  that  only  their  fair 
heads  were  visible  above  it.  They  looked  sharply  at  the 
newcomer,  out  of  their  grey  eyes. 

"  This  is  little  Kai  Jans.  Make  friends,  or  you  shall  be 
smacked."  And  with  this  Boje  returned  to  his  books. 
Kai  remained  standing  at  the  kitchen  door ;  the  other  two 
lay  face  downwards  on  the  grass,  with  outstretched  necks. 

"There's  a  scarecrow,"  said  Anna  to  Pete. 

"  Yes,  isn't  he?  that's  a  real  workman's  boy.  Look 
at  his  boots ;  not  made  for  him.  Mother  might  have  told 
us." 

"  We  have  no  use  for  you  just  now,"  said  Anna,  "  but 
I  shall  soon  quarrel  with  Pete,  and  then  I'll  play  with 
you;  until  then  you  can  stay  there  and  look  on." 

Kai  was  not  surprised  by  this  treatment.  They  seemed 
so  grand,  and  all  their  surroundings  too.  They  were 


HOLYLAND  27 

engaged  in  weaving  a  peaked  cap  by  plaiting  rushes. 
As  both  were  working  at  the  same  piece  a  quarrel  soon 
arose.  "  You're  no  good,"  said  Pete;  "  leave  it  to  me." 

"The  cap  isn't  only  for  you,"  said  Anna,  getting 
annoyed. 

"It's  all  one  to  me,"  said  Pete.  "Leave  off,  or  I'll 
smack  you,"  suiting  the  action  to  the  word. 

Anna  retreated,  her  eyes  on  the  cap.  Anger  visibly 
rose  and  then  died  down  in  the  determined  little  face. 
As  she  looked  up  her  eyes  fell  on  Kai,  and  she  said  to 
her  brother,  "  Let's  beat  him  to  bits!  What  else  is  he 
good  for?  " 

But  Pete,  remembering  his  father's  warning,  said, 
"No,  we  won't  beat  him;  we'll  frighten  him." 

Suddenly  jumping  up  they  made  a  dash  upon  him  like 
practised  highwaymen,  and  dragged  him  to  the  pond. 
"We're  going  to  duck  you  in  the  pond,"  said  Pete; 
"  that's  what  we  do  with  Hilligenlei  boys." 

"  Hundreds  are  there  already,"  said  Anna. 

He  did  not  scream,  only  looked  at  them  curiously.  Pete 
held  on  to  his  jacket ;  Anna,  lying  full  length  on  the  grass, 
had  his  ankles  fast. 

' '  Tell  us  a  story,  or  into  the  pond  you  go. ' ' 

"  About  Pe  Ontjes  Lau?  "  he  said,  quickly. 

"We  know  him,  a  hateful  boy." 

"He's  as  big  again  as  I  am,"  Kai  went  on,  "and 
stands  on  the  pier,  looking  over  the  water,  with  a  woollen 
cap  on,  and  he's  going  to  be  a  captain.  Then  he'll  go  far, 
far  away,  and " 

"  He  doesn't  know  any  more,"  said  Pete. 

1 '  And  I  shall  go  with  him  far  away.  There  are  lions 
and  elephants,  and  I  shall  be  a  king  there.  Yes." 

Anna  brushed  her  fair  hair  back  from  her  forehead  and 
looked  at  him  with  more  interest. 

The  boy  got  hot  and  excited,  twittering  with  big, 
wondering  eyes  like  a  young  lark  who  uses  its  wings  for 
the  first  time  when  it  has  been  frightened  out  of  its  nest 
in  the  furrow  by  a  weasel,  and  as  soon  as  it  sees  that  it 
can  fly  forgets  all  its  fear  in  the  joy  of  this  wonderful 
new  power. 

"There  I  build  a  house  for  myself  that  reaches  up  to 
the  sky,  all  made  of  gold,  and  in  it  there  live  my  father 
and  mother,  and  Pe  Ontjes  Lau,  and  all  the  other  people 


28  HOLYLAND 

in  the  world,  and  do  nothing  but  laugh  and  sing  and 
enjoy  themselves.  Nobody  has  a  cough  there.  Nobody 
dies.  Will  you  come  too?  " 

His  clever  east-country  face  was  irradiated  with  kind- 
ness. 

The  girl  pulled  his  foot  so  that  he  fell  down,  and, 
picking  up  the  badly  plaited  rush  hat,  crammed  it  on  his 
head.  "There's  a  crown  for  you,"  she  said. 

He  did  not  mind.  "  If  you  like  you  may  come  too,"  he 
said,  his  eyes  sparkling  with  kindness.  "  Would  you  like 
it?" 

"  Me,  too,"  said  Pete,  standing  up.  He  saw  that  more 
tremendous  thoughts  were  coming  to  the  fair-headed  boy 
with  the  quick  eyes.  Looking  wildly  round  like  someone 
suddenly  awakened,  he  jumped  up  and  ran  through  the 
kitchen  into  the  sitting-room,  the  other  two  after  him. 

"  We  have  been  quite  good,"  he  said  at  once  in  a  loud 
voice. 

"  He  wants  to  be  a  king,"  said  Anna.  "  That's  his 
crown. ' ' 

The  teacher  took  his  children  by  the  fair  hair  and  said, 
"  And  what  do  you  want  to  be?  " 

"  Oh,  you  know,"  said  she,  "  we  want  to  be  neighbour 
Martin ;  have  as  many  horses  and  cows  as  he  has. 

"  Suppose  I  haven't  any  money?  " 

"That  doesn't  matter,"  said  Anna,  "if  we  must  be 
neighbour  Martin  !  " 

"Who  says  that  you  must?"  said  Boje,  in  an  almost 
irritated  voice. 

' '  God  says  so, ' '  they  both  replied. 

"  Get  away,"  he  said,  angrily.  "  You  always  end  up 
with  that.  You  make  God  the  servant  of  your  own  wills. " 

He  turned  them  both  out.  As  they  stood  in  the  door- 
way the  sun  fell  on  the  fair,  defiant  heads,  and  their  hair 
shone  like  the  wood  of  a  new-cut  ash-tree. 

"The  children  are  a  great  trouble  to  us,  Mala,"  said 
Hella.  "  They  are  dear,  good  children,  but  so  impetuous, 
so  quick  to  anger,  full  of  such  ideas  !  If  we  were  people 
of  consequence  and  well  off  they  might  do  great  things, 
but  we  are  poor,  even  in  debt.  If  they  rush  out  into  life, 
out  of  such  narrow  surroundings,  full  of  this  wild  eager- 
ness, they  will  dash  themselves  against  fearful  obstacles; 
they  will  find  the  way  hard  and  a  cold  wind  blowing 


HOLYLAND  29 

against  them  ;  they  will  make  themselves  hot  with  running, 
and  then  they  will  fall.  Boje  and  I  were  just  the  same, 
with  our  heads  full  of  lofty  ideas.  What  wonderful  things 
I  used  to  see  in  my  little  room  on  the  dyke  !  Well,  the 
greatest  wonder  of  all  came  true  for  us;  we  saw  and 
belonged  to  one  another,  and  so  we  are  quiet  and 
contented.  But  can  such  good  fortune  fall  to  our 
children?" 

Little  Mala  Jans  looked  shyly  from  one  to  the  other 
and  thought,  "What  have  six  short  years  made  of  the 
two  young  things  who  pressed  each  other's  hands  secretly 
at  Ringerang's  party,  thinking  of  nothing  but  possessing 
one  another !  ' ' 

She  got  up  and  said  she  must  go,  or  Harbourmaster 
Lau  would  be  waiting  for  her,  and  there  was  supper  to 
be  got  ready.  She  said  goodbye,  and  left  the  house  with 
her  boy. 

When  Thomas  Jans  came  home  at  night  with  his  spade 
and  heard  of  the  trouble  they  had  at  the  schoolhouse  from 
the  masterfulness  of  the  children,  his  deep-set  eyes 
sparkled  as  he  sat  looking  thoughtfully  at  the  table,  and 
he  said,  in  joke,  "  Then  we  need  have  no  trouble;  our  boy 
is  as  meek  as  a  whipped  cur  !  " 

Mala  Jans  flew  out  at  that.  ' '  You  have  no  eyes  and 
ears  then,"  said  she,  and  went  on  to  tell  him,  in  a  shy, 
trembling  voice,  of  her  boy's  inner  life,  and  how  he  had 
said  he  wanted  to  be  a  king.  "  He  is  every  bit  as  proud, 
only  in  a  different  way,  as  the  Boje  children.  His  pride 
is  deep,  deep  down.  His  is  a  different  sort  of  kingdom." 

41  What  sort  ?  "  said  Thomas,  astonished.  "  What  sort 
of  one?  One  in  the  moon,  perhaps." 

The  next  day  he  picked  up  courage  for  the  first  time  to 
go  into  the  middle  of  the  street  and  peer  into  the  dark 
smithy,  where  conversation  reigned  for  once  instead  of 
the  clang  of  the  hammer  and  the  roar  of  the  furnace.  Pe 
Ontjes  Lau  saw  him  come  out,  and  said,  4<  Come  inside." 
So  he  went  in  and  looked  about  him.  On  the  anvil  sat 
Jeff,  huge  and  black  in  his  messy  leather  apron,  with  his 
hammer  tucked  away  comfortably  under  his  arm.  Schein- 
hold,  the  journeyman,  stood  at  the  bellows.  All  three 
were  looking  at  Tjark  Dusenschon,  who  sat  on  the  lathe 
dangling  his  legs  and  moving  his  bare  feet  up  and  down. 


30  HOLYLAND 

"  Why  shouldn't  I  wear  the  green  handkerchief  if  the 
mayor  gave  it  me?  "  said  Tjark. 

"It's  not  true,"  said  Pe  Ontjes.  "The  money  came 
from  his  grandmother.  Listen  to  his  '  mayor  ' ;  how  he 
says  it !  Call  him  Daniel  Peters ;  all  Hilligenlei  calls  him 
so,  silly." 

"  The  mayor  gave  it  you,  did  he?  "  said  Jeff,  raising 
his  eyebrows.  "  So,  so  " — his  stiff  apron  made  a  noise 
like  the  falling-in  of  a  mine  when  he  moved — ' '  so ;  then  I 
must  return  to  my  old  opinion,  anyhow." 

"  What  opinion,  sir  ?  "  asked  Scheinhold,  blinking  as  if 
some  buzzing  insect  had  got  inside  his  eyes. 

"  Shut  up,"  said  Jeff.  "I'm  not  talking  to  you.  My 
old  opinion  is  that  Tjark  Dusenschon  is  the  mayor's 
natural  son,  so  now  you  know.  If  we  only  had  the 
postcard.  It  was  wrong  of  you,  Pe  Ontjes,  to  throw  it 
into  the  harbour." 

Pe  Ontjes  nodded  slowly.  "  Go  on,  go  on.  He  is  half- 
cracked  already.  You'll  drive  him  stark  mad." 

Tjark  was  happy  at  being  once  more  the  subject  of  con- 
versation, and  he  turned  about,  dangling  his  wide  trousers 
and  turning  back  his  big  toes  in  a  way  that  terrified  little 
Kai  Jans. 

"Look  at  his  legs,"  said  Jeff.  "Whose  legs  are  like 
that,  as  straight  as  a  lance?  The  mayor's,  of  course; 
and  who  else  is  so  arrogant?  " 

The  journeyman,  Scheinhold,  rubbed  his  eyes  and  said, 
"  It  may  be  because  of  his  royal  blood." 

Pe  Ontjes  got  up  to  go.  ' '  This  drivel  is  too  much  for 
me.  What  is  he?  A  child  born  out  of  wedlock,  whose 
grandmother  is  an  old  idiot,  and  whom  Rieke  Thomson 
scolds  daily  for  never  having  paid  her  fifteen  pence,  that's 
what  he  is." 

"  Yes,"  said  Jeff,  creaking  his  leather  apron.  "  I  grant 
you  the  present  is  dark,  but  a  star  of  hope  is  shining." 

"Well,"  said  Pe  Ontjes,  "are  you  thinking  of  paying 
the  fifteen  pence  for  him?  " 

The  master  sadly  shook  his  head.  "I  can't.  You 
know  that.  I  have  a  wife  and  children,  and  debts  to  pay. 
But  you're  right.  As  long  as  the  midwife's  fee  isn't 
paid  he  cuts  a  sorry  figure.  To  put  it  properly,  he  isn't 
a  citizen." 

"  Every  day  the  fat  old  witch  scolds  me,"  said  Tjark, 


HOLYLAND  31 

looking  about  with  his   shining  brown   eyes.     "I'm  no 
good  while  that  goes  on." 

You  could  have  paid  the  fifteen  pence  yourself  long 
ago  if  you  had  wanted  to,"  said  Pe  Ontjes.  "A  boy  of 
fifteen  can  earn  fifteen  pence,  but  you  must  go  and  buy 
a  green  handkerchief,  or  else  a  striped  blue  or  red  cap  off 
a  boy  at  the  grammar  school,  or  something  stupid  of  that 
sort." 

"  Suppose  I  am  the  mayor's  son,"  said  Tjark,  his  eyes 
sparkling.  "I  can't  go  about  the  town  like  every  Tom, 
Dick,  and  Harry." 

"  Right  again,"  said  Jeff. 

Pe  Ontjes  got  up  and  made  for  the  door  once  more. 
"  I  won't  have  anything  more  to  do  with  you,"  he  said; 
"you  are  cracked,  all  three  of  you.  Come  away,  Kai," 
and  he  went  towards  his  home.  After  a  few  steps,  how- 
ever, he  came  to  a  standstill,  stood  for  a  moment  lost  in 
thought,  and  then,  in  a  decided  voice,  "Yes,  that  is  the 
best  way.  I  will  clear  the  business  right  out,  Tjark." 

Tjark  leapt  out  of  the  smithy,  barelegged  and  speech- 
less. "I  cannot  go  on  any  longer  hearing  the  endless 
cursing  and  complaining  about  your  old  fee.  It's  gone 
on  for  years.  I  mean  to  make  an  end  of  it." 

"  I  shall  be  grateful  to  you  for  ever,"  said  Tjark. 

"  Don't  be  anything  of  the  sort,  silly.  Grateful?  Is  a 
man  grateful?  Grateful  is  a  word  you  hear  in  school,  but 
a  healthy  man  isn't  grateful." 

He  felt  in  his  purse,  and  then  struck  across  the  dyke 
with  the  two  others  to  the  long  house.  Then  he  said  to 
Kai  Jans,  "Just  run  in  and  see  if  she  is  in  her  big  chair 
and  if  she's  got  her  foot-warmer,  and  if  she's  thinking, 
and  if  she's  got  her  slippers  handy  for  throwing.  Say 
something  and  just  shove  the  slippers  a  bit  out  of  the 
way,  then  come  back  and  leave  the  door  open." 

The  little  fellow  went  in,  came  out  again,  and  said,  in 
a  low  voice,  "  It's  all  right." 

Then  Pe  Ontjes  drew  a  deep  breath,  rushed  into  the 
room,  and,  raising  his  clenched  fist,  almost  drove  the 
fifteen  pence  into  the  board.  ' '  There  are  the  fifteen 
pence  that  Tjark  Dusenschon  owes  you,  and  now  let  your 
confounded  cursing  be  at  an  end." 

The  old  woman  had  leant  back  in  horror.  Then,  ap- 
pearing on  the  threshold,  "You  weathercock,"  from  the 


32  HOLYLAND 

distance  Tjark  cried  out  in  an  injured  tone,  "  you  are  to 
say  no  more  of  that  now  !  " 

"  What?  "  cried  the  old  woman.  "  Say  no  more  about 
it?  For  a  vagabond  like  you — other  people  have  to  pay 
your  fee  for  you.  Is  that  Kai  Jans  with  you?  H'm, 
he's  beginning  early.  He'll  come  to  no  good.  Just  come 
in  here,  you  vagabond." 

Pe  Ontjes  shook  his  head,  and  said,  dejectedly,  "The 
fifteen  pence  are  thrown  away."  Then  suddenly  his  anger 
rose.  Drumming  on  his  legs  with  both  fists,  he  shouted, 
' '  Never  again  will  I  bother  about  that  wretched  Tjark 
Dusenschon.  Where  is  he  gone?  " 

Sniffing  danger,  he  had  fled  to  his  grandmother's  door. 
Stiena  Dusenschon  stood  there  with  waving  bonnet 
strings.  "  Tj-a-ark,  Tjark,  come  to  your  granny." 

"I  will  tell  you  something,"  said  Pe  Ontjes  to  Kai. 
"  In  the  future  I  shall  only  have  to  do  with  you." 

The  little  fellow  looked  happily  up  at  him.  ' '  Yes ;  then 
you  must  promise  to  take  me  with  you  when  you  are  a 
captain." 

"  You  are  a  funny  one,"  said  Pe  Ontjes.  "  And  where 
do  you  want  to  go  to?  " 

"Ah!  that  you  shall  see,"  he  said,  earnestly.  "Do 
you  know,  we  shall  go  to — oh  !  to  a  glorious  country,"  and 
in  his  eagerness  he  stamped  on  the  ground. 

"Done,  then,"  said  Pe  Ontjes,  clapping  him  on  the 
shoulder.  He  began  to  be  fond  of  the  little  fellow,  and 
took  him  about  with  him  everywhere.  And  the  little 
fellow  grew  strong  in  his  company. 


CHAPTER    IV 

THE  teacher  at  the  harbour  school  had  to  be  a  very  con- 
scientious man,  for  the  school  hours  were  arranged  to  fit 
the  tides  so  that  the  children  of  the  sailors  and  fishermen 
could  help  their  parents ;  strong,  too,  for  the  boys  used 
to  come,  some  barefooted,  some  in  clattering  slippers, 
some  in  heavy  boots ;  they  came  in  leather  breeches  and 
shirt-sleeves ;  their  voices  were  loud  and  unmodulated ; 
their  skulls  were  somewhat  thick. 

It  was  a  hot  summer  afternoon.  The  boys  lay,  in 
their  shirt-sleeves,  lazily  spread-eagled  on  the  desks,  pre- 
tending to  be  entirely  absorbed  in  the  writing-lesson;  the 
girls  lifted  their  books  from  time  to  time  and  fanned 
themselves.  Max  Wieber,  likewise  in  his  shirt-sleeves, 
sat  stolidly  behind  his  desk,  leaning  his  bullet  head,  sur- 
rounded by  fiery-red  hair,  against  the  blackboard  on  the 
wall  behind  him.  It  was  a  constant  temptation  to  think 
of  tea  to  be  enjoyed  with  his  wife  when  school  was  over, 
under  the  lime  tree,  but  he  wrestled  with  the  temptation, 
conquering  it  each  time  with  a  new  text.  "Work  while 
it  is  yet  day,"  he  murmured,  slightly  bending  his  big  head 
and  taking  up  the  red  pencil  and  a  new  exercise  book. 

After  a  while  his  wife's  face  appeared  on  the  green  at 
the  end  of  the  passage.  "  It's  so  hot,"  she  said. 

"Let  not  a  woman  speak  in  the  assembly,"  he  whis- 
pered quickly,  shaking  his  mane,  and  this  temptation 
was  over  in  its  turn. 

Then  up  got  Pe  Ontjes,  first  on  the  boys'  side,  and 
said,  in  his  hoarse,  manly  voice,  "  We  were  to  get  back 
our  exercises  to-day."  Not  that  Pe  Ontjes  was  in  the 
least  curious  to  see  his  own  exercise;  he  merely  wanted 
to  put  some  life  into  the  proceedings. 

Max  Wieber  had  an  unconscious  inclination  to  do  what- 
ever Pe  Ontjes  proposed  with  his  calm,  self-confident  air. 

D 


34  HOLYLAND 

He  took  the  great  pile  of  blue  exercise  books  and  said,  in 
his  droning  voice,  ' '  The  subject  was  '  The  Story  of  a 
Drop  of  Water.'  I  said  that  the  drop  of  water  was  to 
come  in  with  the  tide,  and  then  relate  all  that  it  saw  in 
the  bay  of  Hilligenlei ;  then,  evaporating  in  the  harbour, 
it  was  to  rise  up  in  mist,  to  fall  down  again  as  a  drop 
of  rain,  and  flow  down  the  street  into  the  sea  once  more. 
In  your  work  you  were  to  show,  you  vagabonds,  your 
understanding  of  how  clouds  and  rain  come  to  be.  Well, 
here  is  Kai  Jans'  exercise — Kai  Jans — there  is  something 
very  peculiar  in  that  boy.  Sometimes  he  is  the  cleverest 
in  the  school,  and  sometimes  far  the  stupidest.  If  you 
ask  him  about  the  moon  he  knows  what  sort  of  men  live 
there  and  how  they  get  their  boots  soled ;  but  stick  his 
nose  into  a  thorn-bush,  and  he  doesn't  know  what  it  is. 
Pe  Ontjes,  stop  laughing  in  that  stupid  way." 

Max  Wieber  picked  up  his  eyeglasses  from  the  desk 
with  two  sharp  fingers,  put  them  on  his  nose,  and  picked 
up  the  exercise  to  read  it  out.  Then  Kai  Jans  got  up,  in 
the  third  row,  anxious  entreaty  in  his  eyes. 

"  What  do  you  want?  " 

He  opened  his  mouth,  but  sat  down  without  saying 
anything. 

"  Well,  the  raindrop  rises  from  the  harbour  in  mist. 
'  But  now  a  tremendous  west  wind  rose.  It  drove  the 
cloud,  where  the  drop  was,  thousands  of  miles  east- 
ward, and  when  it  was  over  St.  Petersburg  it  saw  the 
Emperor  of  Russia  driving  with  his  wife  in  a  coach  of 
gold,  driving  as  fast  as  the  cloud,  ever  eastwards.  So 
they  came  to  Siberia.  And  there  the  raindrop  saw  the 
Emperor  set  all  the  prisoners  free.  And  it  fell  straight 
into  the  well  from  which  the  Chinese  Emperor  has  his 
water  drawn.  Then  his  servant-maid  came  and  took  the 
drop  out  of  the  well  in  her  pail,  and  dipped  a  cup  into 
the  pail,  and  gave  it  to  the  Emperor  to  drink.  And  so 
he  drank  up  the  drop.  He  had  been  a  wicked  man,  but 
now  he  became  good,  for  the  drop,  which  came  from  the 
holy  bay,  was  holy.'  ' 

Most  of  them  sniggered.  A  few  of  the  girls  looked 
with  wondering  eyes  across  to  Kai,  whose  brown  hair 
covered  such  marvellous  things. 

"  Stop  laughing  in  that  stupid  way.  Kai  Jans  is  a 
wonderful  boy — yes.  Generally,  he's  as  shy  as  a  little 


HOLYLAND  35 

hare;  then,  hey,  presto!  he's  a  great,  wild  thing,  strikes 
behind  him  and  in  front  of  him,  and  has  all  Paradise  at 
his  disposal — all  Paradise,  indeed  !  Next  time  you'll  con- 
fine your  thoughts  to  Hilligenlei,  do  you  hear?  " 

He  laid  the  exercise  down  and  took  up  another. 

"Well,  Kai  Jans  at  least  stuck  to  the  drop  of  water. 
But  Pe  Ontjes  Lau — Pe  Ontjes  Lau !  You  imagine 
Pe  Ontjes  Lau  is  head  boy  in  the  Hilligenlei  harbour 
school?  He's  far  more  than  that;  he's  harbourmaster 
of  Hilligenlei,  and,  more  than  that,  he's  mayor  of  Hilli- 
genlei. Well,  his  drop  of  water  comes  swimming  into 
the  bay  with  the  tide  all  right.  Then  he  becomes  too  pre- 
posterous. He  uses  words  that  I  know  well  enough. 
You  and  your  father,  you  vagabond,  have  done  the  exer- 
cise together.  '  Then  the  drop  of  water  saw  that  the 
harbour  stream  got  narrower  and  narrower,  so  that  a 
decent-sized  cutter  could  not  possibly  come  through. 
Klaus  Voss'  Joanna  was  stuck  for  two  tides  off  the 
Danish  sandbank,  and  could  not  stir.  It  is  a  fearful 
piece  of  stupidity  for  a  town  to  allow  its  harbour  to  be 
choked;  it's  like  tying  a  string  round  a  pig's  nose  when 
you  want  to  fatten  it ;  it  gets  thinner  and  thinner,  till 
it  is  like  two  boards  fastened  together,  and  finally  dies. 
Thus  you  see  Hilligenlei  getting  poorer  and  stupider 
every  day.'  I  haven't  the  least  objection  to  Pe  Ontjes 
Lau  having  the  harbour  stream  cut  out  when  he  is  once 
mayor,  but  I  shall  give  him  a  good  spanking  for  talking  as 
big  as  if  he  were  mayor  when  he  isn't  anything  of  the 
sort,  yet.  Now  we  will  have  a  short  interval." 

With  these  words  Max  walked  serenely  down  the 
middle  passage  out  of  the  schoolroom,  to  have  a  chat  with 
his  wife. 

Turning  round  on  his  form,  Pe  Ontjes  found  the  eyes 
of  all  the  bigger  boys  upon  him.  "Children,"  said  he, 
"  let  come  what  may,  I  am  not  going  to  give  the  old 
fellow  the  pleasure  of  walloping  me  to-day;  I'm  off. 
Tide's  low  at  four.  Who's  coming?  " 

"That  means  an  awful  thrashing,"  they  said. 

"  Who's  coming?  "  said  Pe  Ontjes. 

"Me,"  said  Kai  Jans. 

"You?" 

"  He  read  out  my  exercise;  that's  why  I'm  coming." 

Five  went  with  him.  There  were  the  Tarns,  the  fisher- 

D  2 


36  HOLYLAND 

man's  two  boys  (one  of  them  died  young,  as  a  sailor, 
in  a  fearful  wreck;  the  other  is  now  a  fisherman  on  Lake 
Ontario);  the  shepherd's  two  boys  (both  of  whom  after- 
wards served  on  the  Russian  frontier,  and  are  now  dock 
labourers,  as  strong  as  ever,  and  as  ready  for  any  sort 
of  spree),  and  Kai  Jans.  Tjark  Dusenschon  had  slunk 
out,  and  watched  them  disappear  from  behind  the  shed. 
They  made  their  way  through  the  garden  into  the  street, 
crossed  the  dyke,  and  so  ran  over  the  green  plain — a 
wide,  absolutely  level  plain  covered  with  beautiful  short 
grass.  Not  a  house  or  a  tree  anywhere,  only  here  and 
there  a  herd  of  heavy  cattle  or  a  group  of  splendid  colts. 
Across  it  the  little  band  of  children  trotted.  In  the 
distance,  at  the  edge,  from  time  to  time  a  solitary  flash 
from  a  workman's  spade.  Overhead  the  sky,  endlessly 
high,  endlessly  broad. 

They  soon  got  to  the  edge  of  the  green  plain,  and  then 
in  they  went,  over  their  ankles,  up  to  their  knees,  in  the 
grey  mud.  There  was  a  great  deal  of  groaning,  com- 
plaining, and  bragging,  and  then  out  they  came  on  to  firm 
ground  once  more  that  seemed  to  extend  right  to  the  far, 
far  distant  horizon,  where  a  narrow  strip  of  silver  lay. 

They  talked  about  everything  they  saw — the  bird  that 

flew  past,  the  sail  on  the  horizon,  the  Danish  sandbank, 

1  where  the  treasure  ship  lay  buried  that  would  some  day 

be  discovered,  for  the  sand  was  breaking  away.     "  And 

then  Hilligenlei  will  be  ever  so  rich." 

"Nonsense,"  said  Pe  Ontjes.  "It's  true  there  is  a 
Danish  ship,  but  there's  no  gold  in  it ;  nothing  but  wood. " 
When  they  saw  anything  in  the  distance  each  of  them 
said  what  he  thought  it  was.  They  examined  everything 
they  found — a  plank  end,  a  broken  chest,  a  basket  that 
the  steward  of  the  liner  had  cast  overboard — and  there 
was  eager  conversation  about  it  all.  It  seemed  endless, 
the  way,  but  at  last  they  got  to  the  harbour  stream.  The 
ttde  was  out,  but  it  was  still  sixty  yards  wide,  flowing 
slowly  down  to  the  sea  in  its  bed  of  grey  mud. 

The  others  began  to  search  in  the  shelving  edge  of  the 
sand  on  the  chance  that  the  prow  of  the  treasure  ship 
or  its  taffrail  migtft  be  sticking  out.  Pe  Ontjes  and  Kai 
were  gazing  at  a  short,  green  strip  on  the  water  to  the 
far  side  of  the  stream,  and  the  others  soon  looked  over 
too. 


HOLYLAND  37 

"Look!"  they  said;   "a  little  island." 

"  Kai  Jans  discovered  it  last  Sunday,"  said  Pe  Ontjes. 
"He  stuck  up  a  stake  and  wrote  on  it,  'This  land  was 
discovered  by  me,'  and  then  his  name.  The  stake  is 
still  there,  but  the  bit  of  wood  you  wrote  on  is  crone, 
Kai !  " 

At  that  moment  a  shout  of  childish  joy  came  clearly 
across.  All  gazed  in  astonishment.  Pe  Ontjes  began  to 
yell,  "  Coo-ee,  coo-ee. " 

Up  rose  two  fair-headed  children,  about  ten  years  old, 
both    bare-footed,    the    girl    in    a    sleeveless    dress    that 
fluttered  in  the  wind,  the  boy  in  his  shirt  and  knickers. 
'  There  are  Anna  and  Pete  Boje,"  said  Kai. 

"  Ha  !  "  cried  Pe  Ontjes,  "  what  are  you  doing  there? 
Will  you  get  out  of  there?  Kai  Jans  has  discovered  the 
island  !  " 

Then  Pete  cried  across  in  his  high,  clear  voice,  "I 
have  taken  possession  !  " 

"  Golly  I  "  cried  Pe  Ontjes,  stripping  off  shirt  and 
trousers,  and  getting  into  the  water. 

The  big  Tarns  boy  stood  in  his  shirt  too.  ' '  Oh ! 
Pe  Ontjes,"  cried  Kai,  "don't;  that's  the  Friestadt 
side." 

"Come  on,"  cried  Pe  Ontjes. 

"  I  can't;  the  current  is  too  strong/' 

Pete  Boje  stood  on  the  stake,  his  legs  wide  apart, 
trying  to  persuade  his  sister  to  run  away ;  but  she  stayed 
beside  him.  The  two  big  boys  swam  across,  got  on 
land,  and  rushed  upon  them.  Kai  saw  Pete  picking  up 
mud  to  throw  at  the  naked  assailants,  and  Tarns,  too, 
picked  some  up  and  threw  it  so  as  to  hit  the  girl  on  the 
ear  and  hair.  The  force  with  which  it  was  thrown  made 
her  bend  her  head. 

Then  he  shouted  across  the  stream,  "Dear  Pe  Ontjes, 
come  to  meet  me,"  and,  running  into  the  water  just  as 
he  was,  he  began  to  swim. 

Pe  Ontjes  had  turned  round  as  if  seized  by  a  heavy 
hand.  It  seemed  to  go  right  through  him,  this  "dear, 
wonderful  boy."  He  ran  to  the  water  to  meet  him 
swimming,  as  he  always  did,  with  eyes  wide  open,  spitting 
out  the  salt.  In  the  middle  of  the  stream  he  turned 
round  and  swam  across  Kai's  way  to  keep  off  the  force 
of  the  current.  Kai  swam  on  bravely,  breathing  hard, 


38  HOLYLAND 

his  eyebrows  drawn  down  and  his  mouth  shut  tight,  and 
got  safely  to  land.  The  big  Tams  boy  had  picked  up 
little  Pete,  and  was  shaking  him  grievously. 

The  little  follow  looked  at  him  in  determined  silence 
as  if  to  say,  "  I  can't  defend  myself,  but  I  can  show  you 
I'm  not  afraid." 

"  Hold  him  tight,"  said  Pe  Ontjes. 

"  How  could  you  hit  a  little  girl?  "  said  Kai,  standing 
in  front  of  the  tall  Tams  boy  with  clenched  fists  and 
sparkling  eyes.  "Come,  and  I'll  wash  you,"  he  said 
to  her. 

She  was  as  defiant  as  her  brother,  though — pushed 
his  hand  away  with  angry  looks.  In  spite  of  her 
fair  hair  and  her  light-grey  eyes,  she  looked  scowling 
enough. 

"  I  only  swam  across  to  help  you,  and  I  was  nearly 
drowned." 

"Are  you  the  boy  who  came  the  day  Heinke  was 
born?" 

"Yes,"  said  he;  "do  you  recognise  me?"  Dipping 
his  hand  in  the  water,  he  shyly  brushed  the  mud  off  her 
hair  and  ear.  "  It's  just  as  well  I  did  come." 

She  looked  round  at  her  brother.  ' '  Tell  the  big  Lau 
boy  not  to  hurt  my  brother." 

"  I  say,"  cried  Pe  Ontjes,  "  come  here  a  minute;  they 
have  found  a  big  eel;  it  must  weigh  at  least  a  pound." 

Pete  Boje  looked  with  disgust  at  the  eel  playing  awk- 
wardly in  the  wet  sand.  "You  can't  hold  him;  he's  so 
slippery." 

"What?"  said  Pe  Ontjes.  He  made  his  fingers  into 
a  hook,  picked  the  eel  up  by  the  neck,  and,  looking  wildly 
about  him  for  a  moment,  bit  the  eel's  head  off  and  spat 
it  out. 

Anna  Boje  gave  a  loud,  shrill  scream,  shaking  herself 
so  that  her  short,  loose  dress  blew  hither  and  thither. 
"  Little  pig,"  she  cried,  standing  stiff  with  horror.  "  Get 
away,  you  pig!  What  a  disgusting  thing  you  are." 

He  pretended  he  wanted  to  eat  her  next,  jumping  round 
her,  gnashing  his  teeth. 

She  shrank  back,  holding  her  arm  before  her  face, 
abusing  him  all  the  time.  "You're  the  most  horrible 
person  in  the  world,  you — you  eel-eater  !  " 

"If  you  touch  her,"   said   Pete,   "I'll  hit  you.     I'm 


HOLYLAND  39 

littler  than  you,  but  you  won't  find  me  so  easy  to  deal 
with,  for  all  that." 

"  Come,  Pe  Ontjes,"  said  Kai,  "  take  your  eel,  and  let's 
go  back  again." 

"  They're  a  couple  of  boobies,"  said  Pe  Ontjes,  looking 
at  them  well-pleased,  and  turning  away. 

So  they  threw  themselves  into  the  water  again,  Tarns 
on  the  left,  Kai  in  the  middle,  Pe  Ontjes  to  the  right, 
keeping  off  the  current,  with  the  eel  stuck  in  his  mouth, 
shaking  his  head  vigorously,  and  puffing  and  blowing 
with  tremendous  energy.  When  they  got  up  on  to  the 
bank  beside  the  others  and  looked  about  them  they  saw 
the  two  children  standing  side  by  side,  all  alone  in  the 
vast  empty  greyness  lit  here  and  there  by  dazzling  rays 
of  sunshine  that  fell  upon  their  hair. 

The  girl  raised  her  hand  threateningly,  and  her  brave 
little  voice  rang  across  in  clear  defiance,  "  Eel-eater,  eel- 
eater !  " 

"The  girl  is  as  wild  as  the  boy,"  said  Pe  Ontjes, 
hollowing  his  hand  to  shout  back,  "  You  shall  be  my 
wife  !  Do  you  like  the  prospect?  " 

But  back  came  the  same  scornful  word,  clear  and  sharp 
as  the  flight  of  an  angry  bird. 

Next  morning,  when  Pe  Ontjes  went  down  the  street 
to  school,  his  fellow  culprits  came  out  from  the  doorways 
or  from  within  the  houses  and  joined  him.  All  were  quiet, 
and  avoided  looking  at  one  another.  Pe  Ontjes  himself 
did  not  seem  in  a  very  elated  mood.  When  they  came 
into  the  schoolyard  he  turned  round  and  said,  gravely, 
"  Boys,  this  is  our  death-ride  !  "  In  school  they  had  read 
of  the  ride  of  Mars  la  Tour. 

He  burst  the  door  open  and  walked  in. 

Max  Wieber  held  fast  to  the  desk,  crossed  his  cane 
in  front  of  him,  and  said  an  inward  prayer,  as  he 
always  did  before  striking.  As  a  boy  he  had  broken  a 
comrade's  arm  in  his  rage.  In  turn  they  got  a  good 
thrashing.  When  he  came,  last  of  all,  to  Kai  Jans  he 
asked  him,  "What  did  you  stand  up  for  yesterday? 
What  did  you  want?  " 

Kai  said  in  a  low  voice,  entreaty  in  his  eyes,  "  I  wanted 
to  ask  you  not  to  read  mine  out.  I  can't  bear  their  laugh- 
ing at  me,  and  they  do  it  so  often." 

He  hesitated  a  moment,  then  thrashed  him  too. 


40  HOLYLAND 

When  it  was  over  he  lifted  up  his  cane  to  threaten  the 
whole  street,  saying,  sternly,  "Woe  to  you  if  you  laugh 
at  Kai  Jans.  What  is  it  to  you  if  he  has  all  Paradise  in 
himself  and  the  angel  Gabriel  to  boot?  Are  you  going  to 
drive  him  out  of  Paradise,  you  vagabonds?  Leave  that 
to  God." 


CHAPTER    V 

BY  the  first  of  March  Pe  Ontjes  had  his  whole  outfit 
ready.  He  did  not  need  a  new  chest,  but  took  his 
father's,  which  had  been  used  as  a  wood-box  for  the  last 
sixteen  years  in  that  slovenly  household.  He  painted  it 
brown  with  his  own  hands,  bought  a  new  lock,  and  packed 
it  as  neatly  as  possible.  Keys  in  pocket,  he  sat  on  his 
form  with  an  expression  of  great  boredom.  The  day  after 
Palm  Sunday  he  was  to  go  on  board  the  ship  Gude  Wife 
at  Hamburg.  • 

One  might  have  thought  he  would  start  without  a  single 
regret,  but  no  !  When  he  looked  to  one  side  there  sat 
Tjark  DusenschSn,  tall  and  thin,  with  restless  shoulders 
and  eyes  twinkling  with  friendliness.  He  was  to  be  con- 
firmed, too,  on  Palm  Sunday,  but  his  things  were  very 
far  from  being  ready.  He  did  not  even  know  what  he 
wanted  to  be. 

True,  Pe  Ontjes  Lau  had  once  said,  "  I  will  trouble 
my  head  no  more  about  Tjark."  But  is  it  ever  possible 
to  do  that?  Hasn't  one  got  to  trouble  about  him?  One 
has  to  say  to  him,  sooner  or  later,  '  Don't  laugh  in  that 
sugary  way,  fellow,'  and  'Don't  tell  lies,  anyhow,'  or 
another  day,  '  Where  did  you  get  that  cap  and  that  scarf, 
pray?  '  The  only  alternative  to  troubling  oneself  about 
Tjark  was  killing  him  outright. 

There  was  deep  consultation  in  the  smithy.  Jeff 
Buhmann  did  not  know  what  to  say;  he  was  greatly 
puzzled.  "  He's  no  good — too  lazy,"  he  said. 

Pe  Ontjes  did  not  know  what  to  say;  he  was  greatly 
annoyed.  "He's  as  lazy  as  you,  and  he  has  another 
fault  besides — he's  magnificent.  He  has  an  absurd  idea 
of  himself." 

Scheinhold,  the  apprentice,  did  not  know  what  to  say, 


42  HOLYLAND 

he  was  vague,  and  looked  about  him  suspiciously.  ' '  We 
must  send  him  out  into  the  world,  just  as  he  is.  I  expect 
he'll  discover  some  new  trade — something  between  a  tight- 
rope dancer  and  a  blacksmith.  If  so,  lots  of  people  will 
find  work. " 

Tjark  sat  in  the  midst  of  them,  on  the  anvil,  in  a 
costume  that  came  from  various  sources,  and  grey  stock- 
ings. Round  his  long  neck  was  a  red  scarf  with  long, 
dangling  ends ;  on  his  head  a  battered  old  first-form  cap ; 
his  slippers  had  fallen  off.  Dangling  his  feet  and  twisting 
his  toes,  he  regarded  them  all  with  eyes  twinkling  with 
friendliness. 

Kai  Jans,  feeling  rather  young  and  inexperienced  to 
take  part  in  an  affair  of  such  importance,  sat  sideways 
on  the  vice  on  top  of  the  nailbox,  silently  attentive  to 
whoever  was  speaking. 

"  At  any  rate,  his  grandmother  has  been  to  the  vicar," 
said  Jeff. 

"Grandmother!"  said  Pe  Ontjes.  "Good  Lord! 
Stiena  Dusenschon  !  Of  course,  I  might  have  known  it." 
He  swayed  his  shoulders  and  arms  solemnly,  smiling. 
"  He  was  to  tell  her,  then,  what  you  were  to  be  ?  " 

Tjark  was  not  in  the  least  hurt.  He  looked  at  his  feet, 
playing  hide  and  seek  with  his  toes. 

"  She  asked  the  vicar  whether  I  could  not  possibly  find 
employment  with  some  nobleman,  as  an  equerry  or  cham- 
berlain, or  something  of  that  sort." 

"  Well,"  said  Pe  Ontjes,  a  mixture  of  scorn,  contempt, 
and  uncertainty  in  his  voice,  "and  what  did  the  vicar 
say?  " 

Tjark  lifted  up  his  eyebrows.  "  He  said  there  was  a 
great  deal  of  competition  !  ' ' 

"Madness  !  "  said  Pe  Ontjes,  much  relieved. 

"It  must  be  something,"  said  Jeff,  "where  he  can 
wear  grand  clothes  and  have  to  do  with  grand  people." 

"There  mustn't  be  any  dirty  work,"  said  Pe  Ontjes, 
with  profound  scorn.  "  Oh  !  he  will  be  a  great  success." 

The  journeyman,  Scheinhold,  rubbed  his  eyes  like  the 
skipper  of  a  sailing  vessel  which  has  been  becalmed  for 
three  days.  "  If  I  may  be  allowed  to  speak,  he  ought  to 
be  clerk  to  the  mayor." 

Then,  indeed,  Jeff  shouted  aloud,  "To  Daniel  Peters, 
his  natural  father  !  Truly,  the  child  belongs  to  his  father  ! 


HOLYLAND  43 

Yes,  indeed,  boys,  that's  it — he  is  to  be  clerk  to  Daniel 
Peters!  "  He  put  his  great,  sooty  hand  up  to  his  eyes 
as  if  he  were  looking  at  a  landscape  bathed  in  sunshine. 
"  Yes,  I  can  see  his  life's  path  stretching  out  clear  before 
my  eyes." 

Pe  Ontjes  looked  at  the  excited  smith  with  displeasure. 
"  It  would  be  better  if  you  would  think  of  what  is  to  be 
done  now,"  he  said. 

"He  must  go  and  present  himself,"  said  Scheinhold. 

"Yes,  it's  called  'presenting,'  but  we  don't  know  yet 
whether  he  will." 

"Who?  "  said  Pe  Ontjes. 

"Tjark?  whether  he  will?  As  if  we  should  ask  him. 
He  will  be  whatever  we  decide." 

"But  I  can't  present  myself  in  these  clothes,"  said 
Tjark,  in  a  complaining  voice.  "  And  I  have  no  boots 
at  all.  The  mayor  is  a  grand  person  too  !  " 

They  looked  sadly  down.  Then  at  last  Scheinhold  lifted 
up  his  grey  head.  "If  I  may  be  allowed  to  speak, 
Nissen's  old  coach  is  in  our  shed.  Suppose  we  were  to 
sell  some  forty  lottery  tickets,  at  a  shilling  each,  and 
raffle  it — that  would  give  us  money  for  a  suit  of  clothes 
and  boots." 

"Very  good,"  said  Jeff,  "very  good,"  and  he  kept  on 
nodding  his  head  without  looking  up. 

Pe  Ontjes  was  not  satisfied.  "  It's  too  old,"  he  said. 
"As  long  as  I  can  remember,  it  has  stood  there  in  that 
dark  shed.  We  might  go  and  see,  however." 

Jeff  and  his  journeyman  exchanged  a  long  look.  "  What 
for?  The  coach  is  there,  and  that  is  all  that  matters." 

"One  can  always  say  there  is  a  coach  there,"  said 
Scheinhold,  without  lifting  his  head. 

' '  It  used  to  belong  to  Mr.  Nissen.  When  he  went 
bankrupt  he  gave  me  the  coach  to  settle  his  debt  to  me. 
I  didn't  care  about  selling  it,  however." 

"You  couldn't  sell  it,"  said  Pe  Ontjes.  "I  will  see 
it,  or  else  I'll  have  nothing  to  do  with  the  raffle." 

"Forty  tickets,"  said  Tjark,  hastily,  "  at  a  shilling 
each.  That  would  get  me  everything,  even  a  couple  of 
stand-up  collars." 

"As  usual,"  sighed  Jeff,  "Tjark  is  confusing  net  and 
gross.  I  have  one  suggestion  to  make  about  the  old 
lumber — about  the  coach,  I  mean — forty  shillings  for 


44  HOLYLAND 

Tjark  and  forty  for  me  make  eighty.  Don't  waste  time 
in  talking,  but  get  the  business  through."  He  laid  his 
huge  hand  on  Pe  Ontjes'  knee.  "Just  think,"  he  said, 
"  what  is  Tjark  to  be?  " 

Having  no  alternative  to  suggest,  Pe  Ontjes  calmed 
down,  and  they  all  set  to  work,  making  a  memorandum 
of  the  ticket-holders  in  an  old  notebook,  and  cutting 
eighty  lots  out  of  cardboard.  Then  Scheinhold  was  de- 
spatched to  go  to  all  the  farmers  round  about  Hilligenlei 
and  say  it  was  a  question  of  getting  the  grandson  of  a 
poor  widow  started  in  a  decent  profession.  Any  questions 
asked  about  the  condition  of  the  coach  must  be  answered 
"with  caution."  The  painful  thing  was  that  not  one  of 
those  present  bought  a  ticket.  Kai  had  no  money.  Pe 
Ontjes  said  he  was  not  going  to  sink  any  capital  in  such 
a  shady  undertaking.  Jeff  declared  that,  as  owner  of 
the  coach,  he  was  doing  more  than  anyone  else ;  nobody 
could  expect  him  to  give  cash  as  well.  Nissen,  the  baker, 
who  happened  to  pass,  and  was  called  in,  was  willing 
enough  to  take  a  ticket  on  condition  that  he  only  paid 
if  his  was  the  winning  number — a  proposal  that  was  re- 
jected by  three  to  two.  Scheinhold,  however,  did  take  a 
ticket,  and  paid  ready  money  for  it.  He  then  started 
off. 

For  four  days,  now  with,  now  against,  the  bitter  March 
wind,  he  ran  round  Hilligenlei,  came  home  sober  every 
evening,  and  by  the  evening  of  the  fourth  day  had  ex- 
actly the  eighty  shillings  in  his  pocket.  Jeff  took  forty. 
With  the  other  forty  in  his  pocket,  and  Tjark  in  his 
slippers  by  his  side,  Pe  Ontjes  went  to  Lammann,  the 
tailor,  and  ordered  a  suit  of  clothes,  saying,  distinctly, 
that  they  were  to  be  for  Tjark  here,  since  the  tailor  had 
the  reputation  of  making  all  suits  rather  after  his  own 
figure — he  being  short  and  bow-legged. 

They  had  then  to  consider  how  to  approach  the  mayor, 
it  being  no  joke  to  manage  a  tall,  handsome  man  like 
Daniel  Peters. 

At  last  Scheinhold  offered  to  undertake  this  part  of  the 
business  also,  if  he  were  given  three  days  to  do  it  in. 
Pe  Ontjes  was  very  eager  to  get  the  matter  settled  off, 
for  when  spring  came  and  the  warm  weather  neither  Jeff 
nor  Scheinhold  could  be  relied  upon  for  anything.  Jeff 
was  irresistibly  drawn  to  fishing-rods  and  flounder-nets, 


HOLYLAND  45 

Scheinhold  to  the  brandy  flask  and  tramping.  All  winter 
he  would  work  under  Jeff  in  the  Hilligenlei  harbour  street, 
gentle  with  children,  helpful  and  kind  in  his  ways.  But 
when  summer  came  he  was  one  of  the  thousand  wastrels 
wandering,  lazy  and  drunken,  up  and  down  the  long,  grey, 
treeless  Holstein  roads  between  Hamburg  and  Koldlng. 

For  three  days  Scheinhold,  the  journeyman,  went  about 
as  if  in  a  dream,  so  that  Kai  and  Pe  Ontjes  began  to  be 
afraid,  since  the  weather  was  growing  warm,  that  his 
curse  was  upon  him  already.  They  watched  him  as  well 
as  they  could.  In  the  interval  they  used  to  run  down  to 
the  smithy  to  see  if  he  were  there.  On  the  third  day  they 
found  him  not.  Kai  Jans,  however,  who  was  especially 
troubled  about  him,  heard  a  monotonous  murmur  coming 
from  the  room  behind  the  bellows  where  he  lived.  Jeff 
came  too,  and  they  opened  the  door  softly.  There  he 
stood,  with  his  back  towards  them,  bending  like  a  stiff 
penknife,  and  saying  to  the  wall,  "  Most  worshipful  and 
honourable  Mr.  Mayor,  this  youth  whom  you  see  by  my 
side  is  the  grandson  of  an  honest  widow,  Stiena  Dusen- 
sch6n,  of  high  rank  on  the  mother's  side,  and,  to  judge 
from  a  postcard  which  Pe  Ontjes  Lau  has  unfortunately 
destroyed,  the  son  of  an  educated,  though  unknown, 
father.  It  is  therefore  little  wonder  that  the  youth  aims 
high,  namely,  at  learning  the  noble  craft  of  writing  and 
penmanship  under  your  worship.  A  person  so  undis- 
tinguished as  myself  is  of  course  quite  unknown  to  you. 
I  am  a  journeyman  under  Jeff  Buhmann,  in  the  harbour 
street,  by  name,  Adalbert  Heinrich  Reinhold  van  der  Beeke, 
called  Scheinhold  by  the  little  street  children,  who  cannot 
manage  R's. " 

Jeff  closed  the  door  softly,  and,  sitting  down,  astounded, 
on  the  anvil,  said,  after  a  brief  silence,  "  Among  all  God's 
creatures  this  fellow  is  unique.  He's  a  lover  of  children, 
a  tippler,  a  scholar,  and  a  man  with  a  truly  magnificent 
name.  What  is  it?  I  never  knew  he  had  such  a  mag- 
nificent name.  One  thing  is  certain — Tjark  DusenschOn's 
affairs  could  not  be  in  better  hands.  Daniel  Peters  cannot 
resist  such  an  address." 

They  set  off  soon  after  midday — the  raffle  was  to  take 
place  afterwards — Scheinhold  in  front,  in  Jeff's  black 
evening  coat,  which  reached  past  his  knees,  and  had  to 
have  the  sleeves  turned  up;  behind  him,  to  the  left,  Tjark 


46  HOLYLAND 

Dusenschon,  in  his  beautiful  new  suit,  with  shining-  boots, 
black  bowler,  and  blue  tie;  farther  behind,  the  street 
rabble  in  their  wooden  shoes ;  at  some  distance,  Pe  Ontjes 
and  Kai.  From  time  to  time  Tjark  regarded  them  with 
beaming  eyes,  saying,  "You  must  remain  outside  the 
door. ' ' 

The  two  came  straight  into  the  office,  where  they  found 
Daniel  Peters  sitting  at  his  desk.  He  rose,  as  he  did  to 
receive  any  visitor — even  a  child — so  as  to  give  the  full 
impression  of  his  severely  handsome  presence,  and  re- 
mained standing,  stroking  his  immense,  silky  moustache, 
to  hear  what  journeyman  Scheinhold  had  to  say  to  him. 
His  constant  subject  of  lamentation  with  him  was  the 
decay,  in  our  times,  of  the  feeling  for  rank  and  authority. 
Here  he  found  what  he  sought,  and  he  therefore  dismissed 
them  with  a  gracious  inclination  of  the  head. 

The  clatter  of  shoes  in  the  Hilligenlei  market-place  was 
something  unprecedented,  even  though  three  boys  had 
theirs  in  their  hands  while  they  ran  in  their  stockings. 
Never  had  a  more  solemn  meeting  taken  place  in  Jeff's 
smithy  than  that  which  now  celebrated  the  raffle.  Tjark 
had  never  been  so  much  the  centre  of  his  friend's  atten- 
tion as  now,  when,  with  sparkling  eyes,  he  shuffled  the 
lots  in  Jeff's  shaky  old  black  slouch  hat.  Never  were  such 
blank  faces  as  when  Scheinhold — Scheinhold,  the  journey- 
man, and  no  one  else — won  the  coach.  A  scene  of  ex- 
traordinary dismay  followed. 

Pe  Ontjes  bit  his  lips  and  stared  gloomily  in  front  of 
him.  Scheinhold  sat,  quite  overcome,  on  the  barrow.  He 
did  not  hear  Tjark  whisper  to  him,  "  I  say,  we  might 
raffle  the  coach  again;  there  are  a  heap  more  things  I 
want." 

Jeff  sat  on  the  anvil,  puffing  hard  at  his  short  pipe,  and 
talking  about  the  tricks  of  fate. 

Suddenly,  up  got  Pe  Ontjes,  without  looking  up.  "I'm 
going  away,  out  into  the  world.  Adieu  to  you  all.  Never 
in  my  life  will  I  have  anything  more  to  do  with  you."  And 
he  departed,  Tjark  also. 

Kai  wanted  to  go  too,  but,  since  the  smith  and  his 
journeyman  sat  on  with  downcast  looks,  he  stayed,  saying, 
in  a  subdued  tone,  "  You  had  better  begin  to  work.  Peter 
Thedeus  is  anxious  for  his  plough  back.  Why  don't  you 
set  to?  " 


HOLYLAND  47 

Jeff  got  up  from  the  anvil,  opened  the  dusty  window 
looking  out  over  towards  the  harbour,  and,  drawing  a 
deep  breath,  said,  "  Extremely  warm  outside.  Make  up 
the  fire,  Scheinhold,  and  we'll  get  the  plough  ready.  Just 
look  !  there's  Hinnerk  going  out  to  fish  for  eels.  A  lot 
he'll  catch,  stupid  fellow  !  " 

Scheinhold,  who  was  still  sitting  on  the  barrow,  raised 
his  head  to  snuff  the  air.  "Extremely  warm,"  he  said. 
"  My  conscience  is  much  too  tender.  They  will  all  go 
and  say  I  cheated  in  the  raffle."  He  got  up  stiffly,  undid 
the  big  door,  and  looked  down  the  street. 

Kai  looked  anxiously  from  one  to  the  other,  then  went 
up  to  Scheinhold  at  the  door,  and  again  remarked,  in  a 
casual  tone,  "You  had  better  begin  to  work.  Make  the 
fire  now,  Scheinhold." 

Jeff  had  attempted  to  unscrew  the  plough,  but  a 
different  screwdriver  was  needed,  so  he  came  again  to  the 
window.  "There's  Charles  Martin  sitting  there,  too, 
with  his  net.  He  isn't  catching  anything  either — far  too 
stupid.  It's  most  gloriously  warm;  there  will  be  thou- 
sands of  eels." 

"Be  off,  master,  and  catch  eels,"  said  Scheinhold. 

Jeff  turned  round  and  said,  contemptuously,  "Do  you 
think  I  don't  know  what  time  of  day  it  is?  You  want  to 
be  off  to  your  pub  to  get  drunk  !  " 

Kai  wanted  to  jump  up  and  fetch  Pe  Ontjes,  but  he 
was  afraid  of  coming  back  too  late,  so  he  remained  stand- 
ing, staring  at  the  journeyman  with  terrified  eyes.  He 
had  known  him  since  he  was  a  child,  and  was  very  fond 
of  him. 

"  I  go  there?  not  at  all." 

He  sat  still  for  a  time;  giving  way  again,  he  began 
to  whine,  "  If  only  my  conscience  weren't  so  tender; — 
but  I  can't  get  over  it.  It  shan't  be  said  that  I  am  a 
cheat. ' ' 

Jeff  turned  away  from  the  window.  "  I  must  just  see 
that  my  net  is  all  right."  With  these  words  he  went  out 
into  the  yard. 

"I  don't  feel  like  work  to-day,"  said  Scheinhold,  in 
a  thick  voice.  "  I  shall  just  go  down  to  the  Sadler's  and 
see  if  he  has  mended  my  braces." 

Kai  seized  him  by  the  arm  and  looked  up  at  him  im- 
ploringly. "  Please,  please,  don't  go." 


48  HOLYLAND 

"What  are  you  thinking  about?  I  am  going  to  the 
sa'dler's;  do  you  understand  that?  Do  you  suppose  a 
man  cares  to  work  for  such  a  lazy  master?  " 

"  Do  you  suppose,"  said  Jeff,  through  the  window, 
' '  that  a  man  cares  to  work  when  he  has  such  a  lazy 
journeyman?  There  isn't  too  much  water  or  too  little; 
it's  exactly  right.  I'm  off  to  the  harbour." 

"Ha!  water!"  said  Scheinhold,  shaking  himself. 
"Water,  indeed!"  He  lifted  up  his  hand,  bending  his 
fingers  as  if  he  had  a  little  glass  in  them,  and  smiled  happily. 

Then  Kai  came  quickly  over  to  him  and  looked  anxiously 
into  his  eyes,  saying,  in  a  penetrating  voice,  as  if  he  were 
addressing  a  man  in  his  sleep,  "  Scheinhold — I  say,  Schein- 
hold— have  you  ever  heard  the  story  of  the  blacksmith 
of  Barlt?" 

"Don't  know,"  staring  out  into  the  street,  his  eyes 
like  dirty  glass. 

"  He  was  a  blacksmith,  like  you,  and  a  mad  dog  bit 
right  into  his  leg.  The  dog  was  quite  mad  and  the  wound 
quite  deep.  Do  you  know  what  the  smith  did?  He 
bolted  the  door  and  worked  for  three  days  without  stop- 
ping, so  that  the  whole  smithy  was  full  of  bright  firelight 
and  huge  yellow  sparks  flew  out  at  the  chimney." 

"  I  don't  want  to  hear  any  stories  to-day,  kiddie,"  said 
Scheinhold,  pityingly,  getting  up  as  if  he  had  a  thousand 
pounds'  weight  on  each  shoulder,  and  going  out  into  the 
street. 

Kai  looked  round  for  Jeff,  to  see  if  he  could  help  him, 
but  he  was  crossing  the  yard  with  his  net,  smoking  like  a 
chimney.  So  he  ran  down  the  street  after  Scheinhold, 
and,  looking  up  into  his  face,  went  on,  eagerly,  "  On  the 
third  day  the  hammering  and  blasting  stopped,  and  the 
smith  roared  like  a  wild  bull." 

"  Kiddie,"  stammered  Scheinhold,  "  I  don't  like  your 
stories  at  all." 

"  At  last  his  dear  brother  took  courage.  He  was  a  car- 
penter, and  as  tall  and  strong  as  he.  He  broke  the  door 
open  with  his  axe.  There  lay  the  hammer  and  pincers 
and  files  and  coal  heaped  up  in  the  corner,  and  the  black- 
smith stood  on  the  hearthstone,  foaming  and  tearing  at 
great  chains  and  bars,  with  which  he  had  chained  himself 
fast  between  the  hearth  and  the  anvil.  And  when  his 
brother  saw  him  he  said,  '  Good  for  good,  dear  brother,' 


HOLYLAND  49 

and  struck  him  down  with  his  axe,  so  that  he  might  not 
torture  himself  any  longer." 

Then  Scheinhold  pushed  the  boy  roughly  aside  so  that 
he  staggered  and  fell  heavily  on  to  the  stone.  The  stout 
publican,  with  his  beautiful,  snowy  hair,  stood  in  front 
of  his  door  and  laughed.  "That's  right.  Give  it  him! 
Come  in!"  And  Scheinhold  stumbled  across  the 
threshold. 

Kai  picked  himself  up  and  went  down  the  street,  breath- 
less and  pale  as  a  ghost.  He  wanted  to  go  home,  but 
Pe  Ontjes  appeared  from  the  door  of  his  house  and  said, 
1 '  I  've  smashed  the  shed  door ;  the  coach  has  lost  its 
wheels ;  the  leather  is  all  gone — the  man  has  mended  his 
slippers  with  it;  there's  nothing  left  but  the  wooden  frame 
and  the  axles.  Scheinhold 's  winning  is  some  trick  of 
Tjark's.  They're  a  set  of  rascals,  every  one  of  them. 
I'm  glad  I  shall  be  out  of  it  all  to-morrow." 

He  came  nearer.  When  he  saw  Kai's  face  he  was 
so  terrified  that  he  threw  out  his  hands.  "  Boy,  what  is 
the  matter  with  you?  " 

Kai  breathed  once,  twice,  quick  and  hard ;  then,  with 
a  miserable  cry,  he  fell  down  on  his  knees.  Pe  Ontjes 
picked  him  up  in  his  strong  arms  and  took  him  up  to  his 
mother  in  the  long  house.  There  he  lay,  whimpering  and 
almost  unconscious,  on  the  floor.  Pe  Ontjes  related  what 
had  happened,  and  old  Sarah  looked  in  and  said  how 
Scheinhold  had  knocked  him  down,  and  the  old  publican 
had  laughed. 

Then  said  his  mother,  sadly,  "Then  I  know  what's  the 
matter  with  him.  He  often  used  to  ask  me,  when  he  was 
a  little  boy,  just  gone  to  school,  if  it  was  really  true  that 
there  were  wicked  people  in  the  world.  He  couldn't 
understand  it,  and  I  wasn't  clever  enough  to  explain. 
Now  he  has  seen  a  mass  of  evil,  all  at  once,  one  thing  on 
top  of  another,  and  that's  what  has  made  him  so  queer." 

"  It's  a  pity,"  said  Pe  Ontjes,  "  that  he  isn't  going  off 
with  me.  He  must  go  out  into  the  world  and  see  for 
himself.  This  sort  of  thing  won't  do." 


CHAPTER    VI 

THE  annual  fair  at  Hilligenlei  fell  upon  a  beautiful, 
sunny,  September  day.  There  was  a  clattering  of  horses 
and  a  rumbling  of  carts  on  the  five  roads  that  led  thither, 
and  Harbourmaster  Lau  landed  on  the  pier  three  boat- 
loads of  all  sorts  of  people  coming  across  the  bay  from 
Friestadt.  Pete  Boje  was  the  first  to  spring  ashore,  his 
sister  after  him.  They  were  tall  children  by  this  time, 
both  of  them,  on  the  point  of  being  confirmed.  Glancing 
shyly  at  the  long  house,  they  saw  Kai  Jans  standing  at 
the  door,  and  behind  him  his  dainty  little  mother,  no  taller 
than  he. 

"  Come  in  for  a  minute,"  she  said,  in  her  friendly  way. 
"  Haven't  you  brought  Heinke  and  Hett  with  you  ?  " 

The  two  children  came  in.  Tall  and  slender,  with 
bright,  fair  hair,  they  seemed  to  fill  the  poor  little  room, 
when,  after  delivering  a  friendly  message  from  their 
parents,  they  looked  about  them  like  a  couple  of  wild 
roes. 

"Our  house  is  small  enough,"  said  Mala,  "and  the 
floor  is  only  made  of  clay,  but  it  is  at  least  clean.  There 
are  the  newspapers.  I  read  them  on  Sunday.  I  haven't 
any  time  in  the  week.  Go  up  and  put  on  your  better  coat, 
Kai.  You  can  go  with  them  to  market." 

She  looked  again  at  the  tall,  upright  children,  shyly 
touching  the  girl's  shoulders.  "Look,''  she  said,  point- 
ing out  the  round  table  with  the  poor  little  lamp  hanging 
over  it,  "that's  where  he  sits  every  evening,  always  at 
his  books." 

"  He  must  be  very  clever,"  said  Anna. 

"You've  seen  that,  have  you?  "  Mala's  eyes  did  not 
conceal  her  secret  pride.  ' '  Mr.  Wieber,  the  teacher,  was 


HOLYLAND  51 

here  about  a  week  ago,  and  said  what  a  pity  it  was  Kai 
couldn't  be  a  schoolmaster.  It's  impossible;  we  cannot 
afford  it.  He  is  going  to  be  a  compositor.  He's  learning 
already  under  Heine  Wulk — goes  there  every  afternoon 
— and  he's  quite  proud  of  it.  And  Heine  says  he  can  rise 
to  anything  in  that  profession.  Just  think;  he  wrote  a 
little  poem  the  other  day.  Heine  printed  it;  he  thought 
it  so  good.  What  are  you  going  to  be,  Pete?  " 

"After   Easter   I'm  going  to  the   technical  school  at 
Itzehoe,"  he  said.     "I  am  going  into  business." 
"  I  thought  you  were  going  to  teach,"  said  Mala. 

"Teachers  don't  make  enough,"  he  answered,  gravely. 
"  A  good  business  man  can  make  a  fortune." 

In  came  Kai.  She  rather  fussed  round  him,  asking 
whether  he  had  a  pocket-handkerchief,  smoothing  down 
his  sleeves  to  show  that  his  coat  was  a  good  one,  giving 
him  twopence  that  lay  ready  on  the  window-sill.  They 
should  see  he  had  something  to  spend  at  the  fair.  As 
they  went  out  she  motioned  to  him  with  her  eyes,  saying, 
"Mind  you  hold  yourself  up,  dear,"  and  pointing  to  the 
girl,  as  upright  as  a  young  princess. 

When  they  turned  from  the  harbour  street  into  Church 
Street  they  found  themselves  in  the  thick  of  the  confused 
crowd  of  holiday-makers.  Tim  Solte,  the  little  crippled 
fiddler,  was  sitting  on  the  ground  under  the  watchmaker's 
window,  fiddling  away  and  nodding  his  head,  his  cap  on 
his  knees  ready  for  coppers  from  the  passers-by.  He 
lowered  his  fiddle  as  the  Boje  children  passed,  saying, 
"  Can  you  change  me  a  shilling,  Prince  Boje?  I've  got 
such  a  lot  of  small  change." 

Pete  felt  in  his  purse.  "Yes,  I  can  do  that."  Then, 
after  Tim  had  counted  out  the  amount  in  halfpence,  he 
gave  him  the  shilling  in  exchange. 

When  he  came  to  count  it  up  as  he  went  along  he  found 
there  were  only  ten  pennies. 

"Is  it  right?  "  said  Anna. 

"Yes;  quite  right,"  he  said,  quietly  putting  the  money 
in  his  purse.  On  a  sudden  impulse,  however,  he  turned 
on  his  heel,  seized  hold  of  Tim's  cap,  and  said,  with 
sparkling  eyes,  "  You've  cheated  me,  you  old  rascal.  I'd 
make  short  work  of  you  if  you  weren't  a  cripple." 

Looking  up  at  him  uneasily  the  fiddler  picked  up  his 
instrument  as  if  he  had  not  understood. 

E  2 


52  HOLYLAND 

On  the  right,  at  the  corner  of  the  market-place,  stood 
a  barrel-organ  beside  a  big  canvas  depicting,  in  lurid 
colours,  a  horrible  murder,  the  story  being  chanted  in 
some  peculiar  dialect  by  a  harsh-voiced  female. 

Kai  looked  at  it  with  dilated  eyes.  "  She  must  have 
seen  it  herself,"  he  said. 

Pete,  more  sceptical,  declared  that  the  whole  thing  was 
a  lie.  "You  can  see  that  the  axe  doesn't  hit  him;  the 
man's  aim  is  quite  out." 

Anna  hung  back,  looking  coldly  at  the  woman  who 
sang. 

"  Let's  go  to  the  flower  lottery,"  said  Kai.  "  Every 
number  wins.  Look  !  so  it  says,  '  Every  number  wins. '  ' 

"You  shall  have  those  flowers,"  he  said,  staking  his 
whole  twopence.  The  wheel  turned,  but  the  pointer 
stopped  between  two  numbers. 

"Unluckily  it  isn't  a  number,"  said  the  man,  looking 
away  from  the  children.  "Come,  ladies  and  gentlemen. 
Every  number  wins  !  " 

"That's  enough  of  that,"  said  Kai,  turning  away  with 
scarlet  face. 

"And  you've  lost  all  your  money,"  said  Anna. 

"  I'll  get  more,"  he  said. 

Then  they  all  went  to  the  puppet  show,  and  stood  look- 
ing at  it  for  a  long  while.  Every  time  that  Anna  gave 
her  short,  low  laugh,  he  was  happy;  it  was  such  a  de- 
lightful sound.  He  looked  sideways  at  her  little  white 
face  and  asked  her  more  than  once  whether  she  enjoyed  it. 

"It's  very  silly,"  she  said,  "but  I  do  enjoy  it  all  the 
same." 

When  he  saw  the  showman's  wife  coming  round  with 
the  plate  he  said,  in  an  important  tone,  that  he  must  go 
to  his  printing  for  an  hour  or  two,  arranging  to  meet 
them  two  hours  later  outside  the  Hamburg  Arms. 

As  he  sat  in  Heine  Wulk's  dirty,  deserted  workshop, 
printing  a  few  belated  fair-bills,  a  faint  thunderstorm, 
rising  from  the  south-west,  passed  over  after  a  slight 
shower  of  rain,  followed  hard  by  a  tremendous  gale. 
Peals  of  thunder  resounded  on  sea  and  land,  and  vivid 
flashes  of  lightning  darted  across  the  sky  with  the  rapidity 
of  the  -angry  strokes  of  a  whip.  The  air  was  darkened  far 
and  wide  by  swirling  clouds  of  dust  collected  everywhere 
on  the  roads  and  lanes  by  the  long  drought,  and  now 


HOLYLAND  53 

caught  up  and  mingled  with  sand  from  the  dunes.  The 
storm  swept  over  Hilligenlei  and  the  bay,  and  was  gone 
as  quickly  as  it  came,  though  across  at  the  Friestadt  side 
dazzling  flashes  continued  to  dart  across  the  big,  dark- 
blue  clouds. 

Released  about  five  o'clock,  Kai  soon  heard  that  the 
storm  had  had  fatal  results  in  and  near  the  town.  A 
young  couple  had  been  struck  down  by  lightning  on  their 
way  to  their  first  dance  since  their  wedding.  A  number 
of  children  had  been  buried  by  the  dust  in  the  fields,  and 
only  saved  with  great  difficulty.  A  carriage  had  been 
crushed  against  the  wall  of  a  house.  Crossing  the  market- 
place, he  caught  sounds  of  an  accident  on  the  Friestadt 
wall.  The  name  was  Schoolmaster  Boje.  The  Friestadt 
farmer,  when  questioned,  could  only  tell  him  that  nothing 
certain  was  known,  and  that  Pete  was  already  on  his  way 
home. 

He  went  at  once  to  look  for  Anna — looked  and  asked 
for  her  everywhere  in  vain.  The  neighbours  could  give 
him  no  news  of  her.  No  one  had  seen  her.  He  went 
about  asking  everyone  he  knew  whether  they  had  seen 
a  tall,  upright  girl,  about  fourteen  or  fifteen,  with  a  small, 
pale  face  and  loose,  straight,  fair  hair.  His  cheeks 
glowed  with  excitement,  and  he  almost  imagined  himself 
in  charge  of  some  royal  child  which  had  lost  its  way  in 
a  strange  town.  He  had  made  himself  quite  hot  with 
running,  when  he  came  upon  her  at  last  in  the  little 
garden  with  its  few  tables  and  benches  in  the  sun.  She 
was  sitting  on  one  of  these  benches  in  her  long,  blue 
dress,  the  little  straw  hat  well  forward  on  her  forehead, 
looking,  with  hot  face  and  rather  untidy  hair  and  eyes 
big  with  astonishment,  at  Tjark  Dusenschon,  who  stood 
in  front  of  her  in  his  tight  trousers  and  blue  tie,  running 
his  hand  indolently  through  the  exquisite  waves  of  his 
fair  hair,  saying,  "  It  would  be  a  very  great  pleasure  to 
me  indeed  to  introduce  you  to  our  little  dancing-club,  and 
my  influence  there  is  considerable." 

When  she  saw  Kai  Jans  she  looked  at  him  with  her 
calm  eyes,  saying,  "  Dusenschon  belongs  to  a  dancing- 
club.  Do  you  dance?  " 

He  looked  gravely  at  her.  "Do  you  know,  dear,"  he 
said,  "  Pete  has  heard  a  report  of  your  father's  being 
unwell.  He  has  gone  home  with  a  neighbour." 


54  HOLYLAND 

Her  delicate  little  face  underwent  a  sudden  change. 
Getting  up,  she  came  over  to  his  side. 

"There's  no  boat  for  some  time.  Shall  I  take  you 
home  round  the  bay?  " 

She  nodded. 

"Then  let  us  be  off." 

Tjark  went  with  them  down  Church  Street,  his  tie 
blowing  about;  his  lips  were  tightly  pressed  together, 
and  at  every  step  he  put  down  his  right  knee  with  such 
force  that  he  almost  seemed  to  limp  with  the  left.  The 
step  and  the  expression  were  imitated  from  the  mayor's, 
adopted  two  years  ago  in  heroic  endurance  of  an  attack  of 
gout.  When  they  came  down  to  the  harbour  street  he 
politely  took  his  leave,  saying  that  the  mayor  had  en- 
trusted to  him  the  maintenance  of  order,  and  he  must 
go  and  inspect  the  stall-holders. 

Kai  Jans  ran  up  to  tell  his  mother  what  had  happened, 
and  then,  as  the  light  began  to  fade,  left  the  town  with 
Anna.  They  came  out  on  the  high  road  leading  up  to 
the  higher  ground,  and  then  took  a  narrow  turning  to 
the  right  with  high  walls  on  either  side,  overhung  with 
hazel  and  hawthorn  bushes  and  oak-trees,  growing  very 
close  together.  Darkness  came  on. 

He  was  proud  of  his  commission,  and  began  to  talk  to 
cheer  her  and  shorten  the  way,  although  he  was  naturally 
one  of  those  silent  people  whose  spirits  are  stirred  by  the 
deep  mysteries  of  which  one  can  only  speak  to  intimates. 

This  evening  to  this  dear  listener  he  did  speak,  telling 
her  what  he  had  never  told  anyone — how  his  father  had 
lain  ill  for  eight  weeks  with  pneumonia,  and  then  been 
unable  to  work  half  the  winter ;  how  his  mother  used  to 
weep  because  they  often  had  not  a  penny  in  the  house ; 
how  she  had  had  to  go  and  get  things  on  credit  from 
that  dreadful,  stout  publican,  and  his  father  had  to  go  there 
every  Sunday  afternoon,  drink  brandy,  and  smoke  a  cigar, 
both  of  which  he  disliked.  Perhaps  in  the  autumn  his 
old  grandmother — his  mother's  stepmother — would  come 
to  them.  She  was  old  and  weak,  and  his  father  didn't 
want  her  to  come  on  the  parish.  "  In  the  evenings,  when 
I  come  home  from  the  printer's,  I  am  often  fearfully  tired, 
but  mother's  crying  keeps  me  from  going  to  sleep." 

"  Don't  your  sisters  earn  anything?  " 

"  Father  won't  hear  of  their  paying  for  board  on  any 


HOLYLAND  55 

account,  for  fear  of  their  being-  so  dreadfully  poor  if  they 
were  to  marry. ' ' 

"  Yes,"  she  said.  "  I  know.  We're  poor,  too.  Father 
has  still  his  student  debts  to  pay — think  of  that.  How- 
ever, that  doesn't  matter." 

"  She  poor  !  "  he  thought.  "  She  knows  nothing  about 
it.  A  teacher,"  he  thought,  "must  be  rich."  Their 
conversation  next  turned  on  the  confirmation,  and  he  said, 
"Do  you  know  half  the  boys  don't  believe  what  the 
clergyman  says?  Does  Pete  believe  it?" 

She  shook  her  head,  and  he  could  see  in  the  dim  light 
that  her  brows  were  knitted  in  thought.  "He  certainly 
wouldn't  be  confirmed  if  the  clergyman  could  only  hear 
the  things  he  says  to  the  boys  and  girls.  He  doesn't 
believe  a  word.  The  other  day  we  were  looking  on 
the  stone  bridge  for  earth-worms — the  long  sort,  you 
know — for  fishing.  He  looked  up  and  saw  the  sky  full 
of  stars." 

"It  was  night,  then?  " 

She  looked  at  him  in  astonishment.  "Rather!  you 
aren't  so  stupid  as  not  to  know  that  earth-worms  only 
come  out  at  night?  We  had  got  out  of  the  window  to 
hunt  for  them — 

"  In  your  nightgowns?  " 

"  Yes,  in  our  nightgowns.  He  looked  at  the  stars  and 
said,  '  Just  look  !  there  are  more  than  fifty  million  stars. 
Do  you  suppose  that  nothing  lives  on  them?  Has  God 
had  fifty  million  sons?  I  don't  believe  what  the  clergy- 
man says.  I  don't  believe  it,  and  I  don't  need  it.  I'm 
a  good  enough  sort  of  person  without,  and  I  know  what 
I  want.'  That's  what  he  said.  Isn't  it  dreadful?" 

"  You  believe,  though,  don't  you?  "  said  Kai. 

"  Yes.  I  believe  it  all  because  the  clergyman  says  so." 
She  was  silent  for  a  time,  looking  straight  in  front  of 
her.  "Do  you  know  what  often  troubles  me?  God  is 
three  in  one.  Well,  what  frightens  me  is  that  I  am  often 
so  tired  at  night  that  I  don't  get  the  order  right.  I'm 
sure  I  pray  least  to  the  Holy  Ghost,  and  He  must  be 
angry  with  me." 

"The  thing  to  do,"  he  said,  "is  to  begin  with  God, 
Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Ghost,  before  you  say  your  prayer; 
then  you  have  them  all  in  right  order." 

Everything    seemed    clear.      "Oh,    yes!"    said    she. 


56  HOLYLAND 

"  How  clever  of  you.  Do  you  know,  they  say  you're  a 
wonderful  boy  and  the  cleverest  in  the  school !  " 

His  joy  at  hearing  her  speak  to  him  thus  sent  his  heart 
up  into  his  throat,  and  he  walked  by  her  side  in  silence. 

The  birds,  sitting  in  the  hedges  between  the  heavy 
raindrops,  watched  the  two  as  they  passed  out  of  their 
steady,  black  eyes.  The  moon  shone  from  behind  the 
clouds  across  the  calm  sky.  On  the  horizon  lay  a  bank 
of  dark-grey  cloud,  and,  beyond,  thunder  rumbled  in  the 
distance. 

"We  must  make  haste,"  he  said;  "there's  going  to 
be  another  thunderstorm." 

They  came  down  from  the  high  ground  and  passed 
through  a  silent  village,  the  thatched  roofs  like  so  many 
dark  patches  beneath  the  black  shade  of  the  trees.  Only 
across  one  garden  there  was  a  light  to  be  seen,  as  the 
door  shut  softly  on  some  remark  they  could  not  hear — 
evidently  a  neighbour  going  home  after  an  evening  visit. 
Suddenly  the  street  was  lit  up  by  a  flash  of  lightning. 
He  stood  in  the  middle  of  the  road,  a  tall  man,  his 
broad  shoulders  a  trifle  bent.  Immediately  afterwards, 
at  the  cross-roads  in  the  middle  of  the  village,  a  little 
pony-carriage  came  towards  them,  with  two  children,  a 
boy  and  girl,  sitting  close  together  inside,  and  a  small 
mongrel  running  behind.  They  could  plainly  see  the 
children's  eyes  full  of  silent  inquiry. 

"  What  a  lot  of  people  there  are  on  the  road  to-night," 
said  Kai  Jans. 

The  flash  and  the  appearance  of  the  carriage  had  so 
confused  them  for  the  moment  that  they  took  a  wrong 
turning  at  the  cross-roads,  and  came  out  on  to  the  heath 
without  noticing  it,  as  they  talked  of  the  rapidly  rising 
storm  now  hanging  dark  and  heavy  over  the  water. 

It  was  not  until  after  a  quarter  of  an  hour  or  more  that 
they  saw  from  the  rising  of  the  road  that  they  were  out 
of  their  way.  At  first  they  tried  to  get  back  by  cutting 
across  the  heath.  A  mighty  roar  came  from  the  sea,  as 
if  a  number  of  heavy  vessels  were  breaking  their  way 
through  the  ice-bound  waters  and  being  cast  heavily  on 
the  beach.  The  roar  of  the  wind  and  the  slashing  of  the 
rain  sounded  like  the  uneasy  movement  of  wet  sails. 

Without  a  word  they  took  each  other's  hands  and  made 
their  way  back,  full  of  fears,  towards  a  light  they  saw 


HOLYLAND  57 

on  the  road  just  beyond  the  village.  Crossing-  the  tiny 
garden  on  tiptoe,  they  stood  still  by  the  wall,  near  the 
light ;  so  that  they  at  least  had  people  near  them.  As  they 
stood  thus  the  window  close  to  them  was  thrown  open. 
A  big,  bearded  man  of  middle  age  put  out  his  head,  and, 
looking  up  to  the  sky,  said,  in  a  nervous  tone,  "  Look 
out  there,  mother  :  half  the  sky  has  fallen  in  !  " 

A  comfortable  old  voice  replied,  "That  will  make  an 
end  of  the  sparrows,  that's  all.  Look  round  about, 
though.  I  thought  I  heard  footsteps." 

The  man  looked  round.  "There's  a  child  standing 
there,  and  there's  another,"  he  said. 

They  stood  stock  still  meantime.  Then  the  old  woman 
opened  the  dark,  low  door,  and,  saying  "  Come  in,  chil- 
dren;  don't  be  afraid;  come  in,"  led  the  way  into  the 
low-roofed  room.  "  Sit  down,  children,"  she  said;  then, 
turning  to  her  son,  "  Run  and  see  if  there's  any  coffee 
left  in  the  kitchen.  He's  a  bit  queer  in  his  ways,"  she 
went  on,  "  especially  when  it  thunders.  One  winter 
night,  when  he  was  a  soldier,  he  was  thrown  from  his 
horse,  and  nearly  perished  of  cold,  but  he  wouldn't  harm 
a  soul.  Sit  down,  children;  don't  be  frightened.  I  tell 
him  a  story,  and  then  he  forgets  the  thunder  and  every- 
thing else."  After  asking  where  they  had  come  from 
and  whither  they  were  going,  "As  soon  as  the  thunder's 
over  he'll  take  you  across  the  heath  by  the  footpath,  and 
you'll  be  in  Friestadt  in  half  an  hour  from  there." 

A  sudden  flash  of  lightning  filled  the  room  with  white 
light,  and  the  thunder  was  like  huge  rocks  crashing 
through  the  sky.  The  heath  seemed  to  shake  under  the 
impact  of  the  falling  stars. 

The  old  woman  saw  to  the  door  and  then  sat  down 
again.  Her  son  came  back  from  the  kitchen  with  a  face 
as  white  as  chalk,  and  fell  on  his  knees  in  front  of  her 
as  if  all  the  strength  had  gone  out  of  him.  "  Mother, 
it  fell  on  my  skull ;  it  has  gone  right  into  my  head. " 

"Then,  my  child,"  she  said,  stroking  his  hair,  grey 
in  spite  of  his  youth,  "we  must  put  in  a  story  to  fill  it 
up  and  make  it  well  again.  Listen,  children.  Once  upon 
a  time,  about  seven  hundred  years  ago— be  still,  my  son, 
be  still — the  Bishop  of  Hamburg  passed  one  day  right 
past  our  windows — do  you  hear? — on  his  way  to  Hilli- 
genlei,  and,  stopping  his  stout  pony  on  the  high  ground 


S8  HOLYLAND 

in  front  of  our  house,  he  looked  down  at  the  wide  land- 
scape at  his  feet  with  here  and  there  a  line  of  grey  sea 
visible,  the  low  Hilligenlei  downs,  dotted  with  thatched 
roofs,  the  wall  of  his  new  church  he  was  building  stand- 
ing up  as  high  as  a  mast.  But  the  sight  gave  him  no 
joy.  As  a  young  man  he  had  fought  hard  for  the  faith,  but 
now  that  he  was  growing  old  he  hated  anything  rough 
and  incomplete.  When  he  came  to  the  solid  stone  house 
that  the  priests  had  built  beside  the  unfinished  church 
he  found  the  table  laid.  There  was  a  pudding  bigger 
than  his  head,  and  a  pig's  cheek,  on  which  they  made 
great  inroads.  He  sat  down  and  ate  enormously.  A 
whole  day  in  the  sea  wind  had  given  him  an  appetite. 
After  a  bit  he  let  out  his  leather  belt  and  ate  more,  eating 
all  the  time  while  he  listened  to  the  priests'  complaints 
of  the  laziness  and  obstinacy  of  the  people.  When  he 
got  up  next  morning  he  complained  that  he  had  slept 
badly,  disturbed  by  fearful  dreams  that  seemed  sent  by 
eviT  spirits — visions  of  beings  with  large,  round,  white 
faces,  void  of  all  expression.  It  was  with  an  irritated 
spirit  that  he  went  into  the  church.  There,  in  the  un- 
finished buildings,  stood  some  three  or  four  hundred  men 
and  women,  the  yellow  sand  of  the  dune  under  their  feet, 
the  open  sky  over  their  heads,  listening,  with  their  eyes 
fixed  devoutly  on  the  grey  stone  table,  to  the  words  the 
holy  man  uttered  in  his  unfamiliar  speech.  His  homely 
goodness  appealed  to  them,  and  his  face  was  of  the  type 
that  the  people  there  have  always  admired,  especially  in 
their  priests  :  the  almost  harsh  manhood  that  speaks  of 
brave  deeds  and  deep  thoughts.  Then  the  Bishop  left 
the  table  and  came  down  to  question  them  individually 
according  to  the  Lord's  Prayer  and  the  Catechism.  The 
answers  were  hesitating,  and  his  irritation  returned.  As 
he  came  down  the  church  he  saw  standing  to  the  left 
by  the  unfinished  pillars  a  lanky  youth  with  straight, 
sleek,  fair  hair,  and  strongly  marked  features.  Over 
his  woollen  shirt  he  carried  a  pocket,  made  out  of  one 
piece  of  sealskin.  When  the  little  priest  who  followed 
the  Bishop  perceived  this  man  he  said,  rapidly,  in  a  low 
voice,  '  Hoc  est  asinus  ferocissimus. '  The  Bishop  turned 
round.  '  Hie,  hie,  my  brother,'  he  said,  crossly.  Then 
turning  to  the  man  he  said,  in  dialect,  '  What  is  the  name 
of  our  Lord's  mother,  my  son?'  'Mary  is  her  name,' 


HOLYLAND  59 

he  answered,  cheerfully.     The  Bishop's  irritation  grew. 
'  And  his  father,  my  son?  ' 

"  The  young-  man  saw  the  trap,  and  was  on  his  guard. 
'  Is- that  Joseph?  '  he  said,  reflecting,  'or  our  Lord  him- 
self? ' 

'The  Bishop  got  angry.     'Our  Lord,  of  course,'  he 
said.     '  And  she  was  all  his  life?  ' 

"  'His  wife.' 

"'Fool,'  said  the  Bishop,  his  wrath  blazing  forth; 
'  she  remained  a  virgin. ' 

"  Thereupon  the  young  man  struck  his  hand  on  his 
forehead  in  genuine  bewilderment.  '  Not  really  !  '  he  said. 

"  The  Bishop,  no  longer  able  to  contain  himself,  raised 
his  hand  and  gave  him  a  heavy  box  on  the  ear.  The  man 
drew  himself  up.  As  pale  as  death,  he  stared  straight  in 
front  of  him,  and,  without  moving  his  eyes,  broke  off 
a  piece  from  the  pillar — you  can  see  the  place  still — let  it 
fall  into  the  sand,  and,  dropping  his  hand  again,  turned 
round  and  left  the  church.  For  three  hours  he  walked 
westwards,  till  he  came  to  the  green  hillock  by  the  ever- 
roaring  sea,  where  his  reed  hut  stood.  He  spoke  no 
word  to  his  wife ;  he  did  not  play  with  his  little  boy. 
When  evening  came  and  the  light  faded,  taking  his  axe 
from  the  hearth,  he  went  back  the  way  he  had  come  in 
the  morning,  running,  without  stopping  to  rest,  over  the 
wide,  white  sand,  over  the  wide  green  plain,  through  the 
deep  water-courses,  till,  about  midnight,  he  reached  the 
Hilligenlei  down  and  the  priest's  house.  All  the  time  his 
resolution  never  wavered.  He  was  going  to  kill  the  holy 
man.  The  back  door  was  not  bolted.  He  went  along 
the  passage  till  he  came  to  another  door  through  which 
he  could  hear  the  voice  of  the  holy  man  speaking  to 
himself.  Craning  his  neck,  he  peered  through  the  chink 
of  the  door  into  the  room.  There  he  was,  kneeling  in 
the  moonlight,  praying  in  some  strange  tongue,  and 
every  sentence  he  paused  to  think.  Suddenly,  after  the 
fifth,  he  began  to  think  aloud.  He  struck  the  table,  and 
said,  in  a  loud,  angry  voice,  '  That  I  was  so  mad  as  to 
box  his  great  ear  !  It  was  yesterday's  pudding  and  pork 
that  did  it,  and  that  confounded  busybody  who  stood 
behind  me.  Dear  Lord  and  Blessed  Saviour  and  Mary 
Mother,  forgive  me  my  sins  and  soften  his  hard  heart. ' 

"The  man  with  the  axe  turned  round,  stole  out  of  the 


60  HOLYLAND 

house  on  tiptoe,  and  ran  home,  without  stopping,  over 
sand  and  grass  and  water,  his  lips  pressed  tight  together 
and  his  eyes  sparkling.  At  the  door  she  was  waiting  for 
him.  She  took  the  axe  and  ran  her  finger  along  the 
edge,  looking  at  him  with  uneasy  gaze.  But  he  spread 
out  his  arms,  drew  a  deep  breath,  and  laughed  out  up- 
roariously. '  He  is  not  a  holy  man  at  all ;  he  has  "a 
stomach-ache. ' 

"  Now,  although  the  people  all  called  themselves 
Christians,  they  were  surprised  and  angry  that  he  did  not 
kill  the  Bishop.  Even  one  of  the  priests,  who  was  a 
native  of  these  parts,  grieved  when  he  thought  that  the 
holy  man  might  thus  have  attained  a  martyr's  crown 
thereby,  although  the  thought  made  his  hair  stand  on 
end.  They  despised  him,  one  and  all,  until  the  Frisian 
invasion  gave  him  an  opportunity  of  showing  magnificent 
courage ;  and  from  that  time  they  learnt  how  to  praise  the 
mild  justice  he  had  shown  before." 

The  old  woman  removed  her  hands  from  her  son's  head, 
and  he  stood  up,  lost  in  dreaming  thoughts,  at  the  side 
of  the  stove.  Anna  Boje  had  gone  to  sleep  during  the 
story,  her  head  on  her  arms,  and  her  pretty,  fair  hair 
spread  out  all  over  the  table.  Kai,  with  his  elbows  on 
the  table,  was  still  gazing  at  the  old  woman  out  of  his 
dark-grey  eyes. 

"  Do  you  see?  "  she  said  to  her  son. 

His  thoughts  were  like  children  playing  in  the  dark. 
"What  does  it  mean?"  he  said,  uttering  his  thoughts. 
"  Are  there  no  saints  now?  no  holy  men?  " 

"No,"  said  the  old  woman,  shaking  her  head,  "not 
a  single  one.  It's  all  mixed  up  in  men  now — holy  and 
unholy  together.  There  are  none  all  holiness.  Look  out, 
Hans,  and  see  if  the  sky  is  clear  again." 

He  went  to  the  window  and  said,  in  genuine  astonish- 
ment, "The  stars  are  all  there  again." 

"Yes;  I  thought  so,"  she  said.  "Now  take  the  chil- 
dren to  the  road.  Wake  up,  girlie;  you're  off  again 
now. " 

He  led  them  across  the  heath,  and  at  its  edge,  without 
a  word,  he  left  them.  Silently,  they  clambered  down  the 
defile  into  the  flat  ground,  and  were  soon  once  more  on 
the  narrow  footpath  that  led  to  Friestadt,  the  straight  line 
of  the  dyke  appearing  on  their  right. 


HOLYLAND  61 

When  they  were  close  to  the  village,  by  the  mill,  Anna 
looked  up,  frightened,  and  still  half-asleep.  "All  the 
houses  are  lit  up — ours,  too.  Why  is  it?  There's  a  light 
in  the  schoolroom,  too!"  She  burst  into  tears,  and 
began  to  run. 

"What  has  happened?"  asked  Kai  of  a  man  on  the 
road. 

"The  schoolmaster  tried  to  stop  a  heavy  cart  that  was 
coming  along  the  sea  wall  during  the  storm.  A  child 
had  got  under  the  wheels,  and  the  driver  was  drunk. 
The  weight  was  too  much  for  him,  and  he  fell  right  into 
the  sea.  They  have  just  brought  him  home." 

Anna  burst  through  the  crowd  of  mud-bespattered  men 
in  the  hall  and  schoolroom,  to  her  mother,  who  stood  by 
the  desk,  quite  overcome.  Pete,  also  covered  from  head 
to  foot  with  wet,  grey  mud,  stood  beside  the  dead  body 
of  his  father.  Hella  Boje  gave  a  loud  cry  of  joy  when 
she  saw  her  child.  "You  are  safe,"  she  cried,  "darling 
child,  you  are  safe."  She  caught  the  big  girl  on  to  her 
knees  and  covered  her  face  with  kisses.  "At  least  I 
have  all  my  children.  Where  are  Hett  and  Heinke?  " 

"In  the  bedroom,"  said  Pete,  in  a  steady,  restrained 
voice. 

Hans  Martin,  the  parish  overseer,  said,  in  his  harsh 
voice,  "  His  death  comes  too  early  for  his  family.  He 
had  paid  off  a  good  seventy-five  pounds  of  his  college  debts, 
but  fifty  pounds  is  still  due — I  stood  his  surety  as  a 
neighbour." 

Hella  Boje  looked  up  questioningly.  She  had  only  half 
heard.  But  Pete  got  in  front  of  the  overseer,  and, 
striking  himself  on  the  breast,  cried  out,  "  I — I  will  set  it 
right.  I  will. " 

"All  right,  little  neighbour,"  said  Martin.  "That  is 
not  how  I  meant  it." 

"  You  did  mean  that,"  cried  Pete,  striking  himself 
again.  "I  will — I  will  set  everything  to  rights."  Then 
turning  to  his  mother,  "  Never  mind,  mother;  you've  got 
me.  Everything  will  be  all  right." 

Hella  laid  her  arm  round  him  and  said  once  more, 
"Where  are  Heinke  and  Hett?  r> 

"  In  the  bedroom.  Yes;  let  us  go  there.  We  cannot 
do  anything  for  father  now." 

Kai  Jans  had  remained  standing  at  the  door,  his  head 


6a  HOLYLAND 

erect,  horror  in  his  eyes.  In  the  light  cast  by  the  lanterns 
which  the  men  now  lifted  as  they  made  room,  he  saw  the 
dead  man  lying  in  the  midst  of  the  disordered  schoolroom, 
the  beautiful  head,  still  young,  bent  helplessly  back ;  the 
fair  mother,  with  her  face  contracted  by  pain,  and  her 
garments  in  disorder ;  Pete  and  Anna,  quite  changed  from 
their  ordinary  peaceful  expression.  As  he  saw  all  this  he 
turned  round  as  if  seized  upon  by  some  force  outside 
himself  and  ran,  ran  home,  stopping  breathless  for  a 
moment,  only  to  start  off  and  run  once  more,  weeping  in 
a  maze  of  confused  anguish  as  the  wretched  picture  burnt 
itself  into  his  soul  and  his  mind  wrestled  helplessly  with 
his  disordered  thoughts. 

It  was  morning  when  he  reached  home.  Hot  and  per- 
spiring, he  gave  his  mother  a  broken  and  stammering 
account  of  what  had  happened.  She  went  into  the  kitchen 
and  sat  down  in  front  of  the  fire.  He  stood  before  her. 
"It  is  appalling,"  he  said,  "  appalling." 

"Yes,"  she  said,  "yes;  it  is  appalling.  What  will 
become  of  her  and  the  children?  The  pension  is  tiny, 
and  they  have  debts.  Pete  will  have  to  give  up  school. ' ' 

"  That's  not  the  worst,"  he  said.  "  Pete  will  manage 
that;  it's  the  other." 

"  What?  "  said  his  mother. 

"  Mother,"  said  he.  "Only  think.  If  the  driver  had 
not  been  drunk  !  He  was  saved,  and  Mr.  Boje  and  the 
child  drowned.  Think  of  the  struggle  the  Bojes  will  have 
all  their  lives  now,  just  because  of  that  man's  being  drunk  ! 
It's  all  wrong." 

She  looked  at  him.  His  eyes  blazed  in  his  pale  face. 
"That's  how  the  world  is,"  said  she. 

' '  Yes.  But  I  tell  you  it  shall  not  be  so.  The  woman 
at  Heesedorf  may  say  '  There  are  no  holy  men, '  but  there 
shall  be  some.  All  men  shall  be  holy." 

"Get  to  work,  my  boy,"  said  she,  coldly;  "that  will 
put  an  end  to  your  brooding." 

"Oh!  mother,"  he  said,  looking  at  her  anxiously, 
"yes;  but  if  that  must  be  so  for  me,  I  couldn't  stop 
thinking  of  it.  I  think  till  my  head  will  one  day  break 
with  thinking." 


CHAPTER   VII 

WHEN  Kai  Jans  came  in,  Heine  Wulk  was  sitting  in 
the  musty  old  office,  grey  with  accumulated  dust,  in  front 
of  the  long,  dirty  table  littered  with  cuttings,  scissors, 
writing  materials  of  every  sort,  and  heaps  of  newspapers, 
his  pasty  face  buried  in  his  Berlin  correspondence.  The 
boy,  who  had  shot  up  into  a  tall,  pale-faced  youth,  went 
straight  to  his  accustomed  place,  and  began  to  set  up 
the  advertisements  which  had  come  in.  He  had  come 
from  six  hours  at  school,  but  in  a  week  he  would  leave 
school  and  devote  his  whole  time  to  the  firm. 

"I  say,"  said  Heine,  smoothing  down  his  long,  sleek 
hair  to  the  collar  of  his  coat.  "A  magnificent  leader 
from  the  Berlin  man  again,  on  the  coming  of  spring;  but 
in  one  place  he  talks  of  dragon-flies  playing  round  the 
water-lilies.  What  does  he  mean?  I've  never  heard  of 
dragon-flies  !  " 

"They're  what  we  call  devil's  darning-needles,"  said 

T7*     • 

Kai. 

"So,  ho!  that's  what  it  is;  but  we  can't  talk  about 
devil's  darning-needles  in  a  leader.  Dragon-flies  it  must 
be;  it's  a  fine  word,  anyhow.  You  must  alter  a  word 
here  and  there,  Kai — for  example,  when  he  talks  of  lasses 
and  lads  you  had  better  say  girls  and  boys,  d'you  see? 
But  don't  spoil  the  swing  of  the  thing;  that's  the  great 
point,  after  all— swing  and  go.  You're  getting  on  finely, 
but  there's  still  room  for  improvement,  as  I'm  always 
saying.  Look  at  the  mayor.  There's  style  for  you. 
And  further  down,  where  the  Berlin  man — it's  very  fine 
on  the  whole,  of  course — but  where  he  talks  of  the  '  sun's 


64  HOLYLAND 

shy  beams  '  you  can  add  that  the  hens  are  beginning  to 
lay  again.     He's  stupidly  left  that  out." 

Kai  looked  at  the  passage.  "  It  does  not  go  very  well 
there,"  he  said,  meditatively. 

"In  it  must  go,  for  all  that,"  said  Heine  Wulk. 
"  Don't  you  see,  if  a  farmer  sees  that,  ten  to  one  he'll 
try  an  advertisement  and  pay  with  eggs.  I've  often  done 
quite  a  good  thing  in  that  way  at  this  time  of  year. 
Well,  tell  me  any  news  in  the  town.  Have  you  heard 
any?" 

"  Skipper  Tarns  has  bought  a  smack  in  Finkenwarder. 
That's  the  fifth  in  Hilligenlei,  and  Harbourmaster  Lau 
says  a  fine  smack  too." 

"What  of  that?"  said  Wulk.  "Anyone  can  buy  a 
smack  !  " 

"  Pe  Ontjes  Lau  has  got  distinction  in  his  pilot's  ex- 
amination in  Altona. " 

"  I  don't  like  Lau.  What's  that  to  do  with  Hilligenlei, 
either?" 

"  The  drain  in  Church  Street  has  been  choked  up  since 
yesterday  evening.  The  bad  water  has  run  out  into  the 
streets,  and  has  no  outlet." 

Heine  shook  his  head  vigorously.  "What's  the  good 
of  our  putting  that  in?  It  would  annoy  the  mayor  and 
set  the  policemen  against  me.  No.  We'll  have  nothing 
to  do  with  that.  Anything  else?  " 

"  Dickson,  the  merchant,  has  found  the  betrothal  ring 
that  he  lost  in  his  garden  twenty  years  ago." 

"  Now  that  is  really  interesting.  That  will  go  in 
nicely.  These  little  traits  of  human  life  are  what  we 
want,  don't  you  know." 

"Birnbaum,  the  publican,  has  put  out  a  bottle  full  of 
peas  and  offered  a  dozen  of  beer  for  the  best  guess  at  the 
number. " 

"That  will  do  nicely.  There  is  what  you  call  humour 
in  that.  You  can  make  a  clever  thing  of  that  by  working 
it  up  a  bit — plenty  of  go,  of  course — showing  how  in- 
geniously contrived  the  idea  is  on  Birnbaum 's  part,  and 
how,  by  promoting  friendly  intercourse  in  this  way,  he  is 
contributing  to  the  healthy  activities  of  the  town,  and 
with  a  verse  or  two,  if  you  are  in  the  mood — some  sort 
of  poetical  motto.  So  get  to  work.  You  ought  to  be 
pleased,  my  boy,  to  be  at  the  centre  of  things  at  your 


HOLYLAND  65 

age  !  Well,  be  diligent.  I  will  run  down  to  the  town 
and  see  if  there  is  any  more  news. ' ' 

Heine  Wulk  drew  on  his  old  overcoat,  and,  plunging- 
both  hands  in  its  huge,  gaping  pockets,  made  his  way 
first  to  Birnbaum's,  where  he  drank  a  glass  of  grog  and 
had  his  estimate  of  the  number  of  the  peas  noted  down, 
then  on  to  the  other  public  houses.  After  exchanging  a 
few  words  with  the  citizens  lounging  and  grumbling  there, 
he  returned  to  his  office. 

Kai  Jans  had  in  the  meantime  set  up  the  two  articles 
and  read  part  of  a  novel  sent  in  in  yellow  backed  numbers 
by  a  Berlin  firm,  in  order  to  decide  whether  it  was  worth 
reproducing.  He  was  now  occupied  in  setting  up  the 
programme  of  a  variety  entertainment.  Heine  squinted 
towards  the  galley  where  he  ought  to  have  been  working, 
but,  too  lazy  even  to  take  off  his  overcoat,  sank  down 
into  his  comfortable  chair  by  the  table  and  picked  up  the 
Hamburg  paper. 

In  came  the  Bojes'  neighbour,  Anna  Wiesche  Martin 
from  Friestadt,  filling  the  office  with  her  portly  person. 
Putting  down  her  basket  on  the  long  table,  she  said, 
"We've  got  a  cow  for  sale,  Heine.  Will  you  put  in  a 
short  advertisement?  "  Then,  taking  a  small  packet  of 
butter  out  of  the  basket,  "  I've  brought  a  pound  of  butter 
for  you;  we're  rather  short  of  cash." 

"  It's  a  great  nuisance,"  said  Heine,  "  that  no  one  pays 
in  cash.  I  don't  mind  taking  the  butter,  and  I  shouldn't 
have  anything  to  say  against  half  a  sack  of  potatoes. 
Last  autumn,  when  pigs  were  so  cheap  that  Hans  Hansen 
let  five  run  about  the  market-place,  Jacob  Sothmann 
thought  he  would  do  me  by  giving  me  a  pig  for  the  notice 
of  his  wife's  death.  However,  the  price  rose,  and  I  was 
all  right.  But  just  look  here  in  this  corner."  He  pulled 
back  a  goatskin.  "  Have  you  any  use  for  that?  Come 
here,  Kai,  my  boy,  and  look  in  here.  If  you  ever  get  on 
to  a  big  paper,  think  of  what  you  may  collect !  One 
must  have  an  all-round  education  !  Look  here  !  children's 
clothes."  He  felt  in  a  big,  soft  heap.  "The  merchants 
are  the  worst  of  all." 

"  All  rubbish,"  said  Anna,  shaking  her  head.  "  I  must 
go  on — oh,  yes!  "  she  stopped.  "  I  wanted  to  tell  you 
Schoolmaster  Boje's  wife  is  coming  across  by  the  after- 
noon boat.  She  is  going  to  move  into  Hilligenlei,  and 

F 


66  HOLYLAND 

wants  a  little  house — three  rooms — so  that  she  can  take 
in  a  schoolboy  as  a  boarder — a  low  rent. ' ' 

Heine,  lost  in  his  reflections  on  barter,  shook  his 
head.  Anna  departed. 

She  had  only  just  gone  when  Kassen  Wedderkop  came 
in,  big  and  heavy.  A  Hilligenleiman  by  birth,  he 
had  travelled  all  over  the  world  and  spent  years  in  Eastern 
Asia  in  the  employ  of  an  old-established  Hamburg"  firm. 
When  he  was  forty  he  received  an  injury  to  his  spine  which 
made  him  an  invalid  and  obliged  him  to  give  up  his  pro- 
fession. Returning  with  a  modest  competency  to  his 
native  town,  he  had  begun,  tentatively  at  first,  to  write 
articles  on  commerce  and  commercial  policy.  He  soon 
realised  that  his  gifts  fitted  him  better  for  the  theory  than 
the  practice  of  commerce,  and  now,  ten  years  after  his 
return,  he  was  a  writer  of  repute  on  important  English  and 
German  papers.  He  had  no  friends  in  Hilligenlei ;  people 
did  not  know  him.  Grave  and  taciturn  in  manner,  he 
went  about  lost  in  thought.  His  voice,  when  he  did  speak, 
was  a  loud  bass. 

Now,  supporting  his  short,  thick-set  figure  heavily  on 
a  crutch,  he  asked,  in  his  usual  dry  and  entirely  practical 
manner,  for  a  particular  back  year  of  the  newspaper  in 
which,  as  he  had  recently  learnt,  his  father  had  given 
an  account  of  his  honourable  career. 

Heine,  who  could  not  bear  him,  gave  him  the  paper,  and 
Wedderkop  went  to  the  window  where  Kai  stood  at  his 
work.  He  looked  attentively  at  the  tall,  pale  youth, 
whom  he  had  met  from  time  to  time  in  the  street;  then, 
sitting  down  heavily,  he  began  to  read,  groaning  from 
time  to  time,  a  habit  which  he  had. 

All  sorts  of  people  came  in.  A  woman  whose  ill-fed, 
untidy  children  played  in  the  streets,  ordered  confirmation 
cards.  The  sexton  brought  the  church  notices.  Then 
came  the  mayor. 

"  Oh  !  his  worship  !  "  said  Heine,  bowing  low. 

Daniel  Peters  gave  Wedderkop  a  distant  nod.  Pulling 
up  his"  light  trousers,  he  took  his  seat  with  dignity. 
"  I  had  not  much  time  for  the  article,"  he  said. 
"  The  care  of  the  town  leaves  one  no  rest,  day  or 
night." 

"It  is  fearful,"  said  Heine,  smoothing  down  his  hair, 
"  to  think  what  your  worship  might  have  been  could  you 


HOLYLAND  67 

have  put  the  pound  that  God  has  given  you  out  at 
interest. ' ' 

"Yes,"  said  Daniel  Peters,  stroking  his  long,  silky 
moustache.  "  One  is  used  to  the  full  as  an  official.  Life 
goes  by.  But  enough  of  that.  I  will  read  you  what  I 
have  written." 

"  Put  down  your  work,  Kai — listen  with  all  your  ears." 

Daniel  Peters  laid  his  hand  on  his  knee  and  read,  with 
raised  shoulders  and  contracted  throat — all  Hilligenlei  folk 
raise  their  shoulders  and  contract  their  throats  when  they 
want  to  say  something  important — "  Title,  '  The  Future  of 
the  Town  of  Hilligenlei. ' 

"  Our  sea,  the  murderous  North  Sea,  is  wonderful — 
murderous  in  its  wrecks,  North  in  contradistinction  to  the 
English  name  of  German  Ocean — most  wonderful  of  all 
when  it  is  not  there  at  all,  when  it  presents  us  puny  mortals 
with  its  vast  expanse  of  sand,  and  invites  us  all,  citizens  of 
Hilligenlei,  from  magistrate  to  labourer,  to  go  forth 
to  the  Danish  sandbank.  And  why  thither?  Is  the  ques- 
tion just?  No,  no;  and  yet  again  no.  There,  in  the 
Danish  sandbank,  over  which  the  sea  comes  gliding  up, 
lies  the  hope  of  the  good  old  town  of  Hilligenlei,  so  often 
sorely  tried.  Our  readers  know  what  we  mean.  Every 
man  who  is  a  true  citizen — and,  thank  Heaven  !  there  are 
still  many  such — knows  that.  It  was  in  the  year  of  our 
Lord  1813.  In  that  year  His  Gracious  Majesty,  now, 
alas  !  long  since  gathered  to  his  fathers,  had  despatched 
to  Gliickstadt  a  ship  laden  with  three  hundred  thousand 
florins  for  the  use  of  His  Majesty's  army.  Was 
it  by  the  effect  of  merely  natural  causes  ?  No ! 
As  Christians,  faithful  adherents  to  our  early  faith, 
we  say  it  was  by  the  will  of  a  wise  and  gracious 
God  that  the  ship,  driven  by  a  mighty  storm  into 
our  bay,  sank  with  all  on  board,  and  was  swallowed 
up  at  once  in  the  sandy  depths  below.  And  the  will  of 
God  was  shown  in  this  also,  that  He  directed  the  heart  of 
His  Gracious  Majesty  to  grant  that  if  ever  the  ship  should 
be  recovered,  its  cargo  should  belong  to  the  town  of 
Hilligenlei.  Behold  !  God  uses  the  forces  of  Nature  for 
the  service  of  His  creatures.  Having  determined  to  help 
this  town,  He  has  brought  it  about  that  in  the  last  ten 
years,  since  the  present  mayor,  Daniel  Peters,  has  directed 
the  affairs  of  our  community,  the  sandbank  has  been 

F  2 


68  HOLYLAND 

gradually  dissolving.  As  the  poet  says,  '  Fate  has  yet 
some  golden  day  in  store. '  The  ship  will  come  to  light, 
and  Hilligenlei  be  a  Holyland,  as  its  name  foretells.  Now, 
well  administered,  true  to  the  faith  of  its  fathers,  it  will 
then  be  also  freed  from  the  burden  of  debt.  And  yet, 
although  God's  goodness  has  been  thus  vouchsafed  to 
us,  some  people  are  not  satisfied.  From  one  year's  end 
to  the  other  they  are  for  ever  agitating  to  have  the  harbour 
stream  cut  straight  for  the  sake,  forsooth  !  of  some  fifteen 
wrecked  crabfishermen,  plying  their  trade  in  miserable 
crafts,  or  the  twenty  smacks  that  come  into  port.  Sup- 
posing that  their  numbers  did  increase  in  consequence  of 
the  widening  of  the  harbour  !  Do  we  want  that?  Do  we 
want  more  intercourse?  more  life?  more  population?  Do 
we  want  a  second  newspaper,  for  example,  to  carp  and 
criticise  in  present-day  fashion?  What  should  we  gain? 
We  live  peacefully  here.  We  want  none  of  the  subverters 
of  State  and  Church.  Alas  that,  as  it  is,  we  are  not 
wholly  without  them.  As  it  is  they  lurk  among  us, 
polluting  our  Holyland.  We  know  their  names  and  their 
comings  and  goings." 

Daniel  Peters  drew  a  deep  breath  and  stroked  his  long, 
silky  moustache.  Heine,  deeply  impressed,  said,  in  a  low 
tone  of  great  solemnity,  "There,  Kai ;  there's  style  for 
you.  I  hope  you  took  it  all  in.  There's  a  model  for  you 
— an  ideal.  Put  the  article  in  type  straight  away.  I 
will  come  with  you,  your  worship." 

They  went  out  together  without  taking  any  notice  of 
Wedderkop.  Kai  returned  to  his  work. 

After  a  time  Wedderkop  looked  up  again  from  his  news- 
paper. It  seemed  to  him  that  there  lay  behind  those 
deep-set,  serious  eyes  a  wondering  spirit,  strangely  mature 
in  such  a  boy,  that  looked  out  with  the  timid  eagerness 
with  which  the  heart  of  a  high-born  maiden  turns  to  her 
lover,  trembling  lest  he  should  not  prove  worthy.  His 
mouth  was  firmly  cut  and  his  chin  broad.  "What  a 
strong,  beautiful  face,"  he  thought. 

"  That's  a  good  piece  of  work  of  the  mayor's,"  he  said 
in  his  loud  voice. 

"Yes,"  answered  Kai,  rather  startled;  "he  writes 
well." 

"  His  ideas  are  clever,"  thundered  Wedderkop. 

"  He  is  a  very  clever  man,"    said    Kai,    intelligently. 


HOLYLAND  69 

"  He  could  be  in  the  Government  if  he  liked,  I  expect, 
if  he  did  not  sacrifice  himself  for  the  sake  of 
Hilligenlei. " 

Wedderkop  opened  his  eyes  still  wider.  ' '  You  learn  a 
lot  here,  I  suppose?  " 

"Rather,"  said  Kai,  emphatically.  "Mr.  Wulk  is  so 
good  in  letting  me  do  a  lot  of  work  for  myself." 

"For  example?" 

The  proud  red  in  his  pale  cheeks  contradicting  his 
modest  manner,  Kai  gave  an  account  of  his  share  m  the 
leading  articles.  "  Quite  recently,  the  first  article  I  have 
written  all  by  myself  was  published — the  story  of  the 
bishop  and  the  countryman.  Perhaps  you  read  it?  " 

"  It  was  you,  then,"  said  Wedderkop,  "who  sheltered 
at  the  old  woman's  in  Heesedorf  on  the  night  of  the 
storm.  I  have  heard  the  old  lady  tell  the  story  myself." 

"  She  tells  it  quite  plainly.      I  have  improved  it." 

Kassen  Wedderkop  looked  at  him  attentively  and 
nodded.  The  young  artist  had  made  the  countryman  a 
spiritless  fellow  and  the  bishop  a  perfect  madman,  and 
added  all  sorts  of  meaningless  detail.  "  Yes  ;  you  improved 
it !  Where  are  you  in  school?  " 

"  I  have  been  in  the  top  form  for  the  last  two  years." 

Kassen  Wedderkop  got  up,  groaning,  and  began  to 
move  away.  "  If  you  care  to,"  said  he,"  to-morrow 
morning,  being  Sunday,  you  might  come  and  see  me 
about  ten  o'clock.  Bring  the  newspapers  for  the  last 
quarter  with  you,  do  you  hear?  Yes;  bring  them  with 
you." 

Nearer  acquaintance  with  this  man,  whom  Heine  Wulk 
and  the  mayor  dismissed  with  such  contempt,  filled  Kai 
with  considerable  respect.  He  looked  up  at  his  bulky 
figure  with  a  certain  timidity  and  promised  to  come. 

Next  morning  Kai  found  Kassen  Wedderkop  at  home  in 
his  house  outside  the  town,  busy  making  notes  on  a  block 
that  rested  on  the  arm  of  his  chair  from  the  portentous 
foreign  newspapers  and  reviews  that  he  was  reading. 
He  groaned  heavily  from  time  to  time,  rather  from  the 
dull  sensation  of  oppression  in  his  back  than  in  actual 
pain. 

"  Sit  down,  my  boy,"  he  said,  "  and  don't  be  frightened 
if  I  speak  rather  loud.  I  got  into  the  habit  in  Korea, 


70  HOLYLAND 

where  I  was  for  a  long  time  and  everyone  is  hard  of  hear- 
ing. It's  a  great,  open  country.  That's  right.  I  see 
you've  brought  the  papers." 

He  took  up  the  first  and,  without  any  further  remark, 
began  to  read  aloud  in  his  tremendous,  droning  voice, 
making  short  remarks  from  time  to  time.  Kai  sat  on  the 
edge  of  a  chair,  cap  in  hand,  looking  straight  in  front 
of  him,  growing  first  red  and  then  paler  and  paler. 

"Just  look  at  this  sentence — there.  You  see  how 
utterly  absurd  that  is?  And  here,  further  on — here  are 
three  sentences,  of  which  two  are  quite  superfluous  and 

the  third  is  drivelling.  And  here — just  listen  to  this 

Look  at  that  stuff  with  those  quiet,  intelligent  eyes  of 
yours  and  tell  me  what  you  think  of  it?  Yes,  I  should 
rather  think  so.  Here's  some  more.  That's  true  enough, 
but  only  half  a  truth — the  rest  of  it  is  lunacy,  stark 
lunacy,  and  the  conclusion  is  fatuous.  As  a  matter  of 
fact,  the  truth  is You  know  that  well  enough  your- 
self." 

He  went  through  two  or  three  entire  newspapers, 
sentence  by  sentence,  in  this  way.  When  he  came  to  any 
article  by  Heine  Wulk  or  the  mayor,  "Nonsense,"  he 
said;  "wretched  rubbish!  It's  all  a  mass  of  nonsensical 
lies.  The  amount  of  harm  these  people  do  with  their 
newspaper  is  fearful.  People  drink  in  all  this  gas — this 
tall  talk  about  nothing,  this  self-satisfied  patriotism — and 
think  it  so  splendid  that  they  go  and  make  a  faith  out 
of  it.  They  think  by  it,  speak  by  it,  write  by  it,  and  the 
result  is  that,  through  the  newspaper,  their  whole  lives 
are  made  a  lie.  Have  you  no  eyes?  Don't  you  see  all 
the  lying,  all  the  pretence,  there  is  in  Hilligenlei?  " 

Kai  sat  motionless  on  the  edge  of  his  chair,  staring  at 
his  cap  without  seeing  it.  He  was  deathly  pale.  All 
his  gods  were  falling  from  their  thrones  and  turning  to 
ridiculous  puppets  before  his  eyes. 

The  story  of  the  bishop  came  next.  Kassen  Wedderkop 
took  it  up  and  pulled  off  all  the  fine  plumage  in  which 
Kai  had  decked  it  out,  feather  by  feather,  showing  him 
the  simple  beauty  of  its  original  form.  Kai's  lips  twitched 
and  his  hands  trembled. 

"It's  all  nonsense,  my  boy — your  whole  existence — 
stuff  and  nonsense.  I  know  you're  right-minded  and 
sensible  enough  at  bottom.  I  thought,  when  I  saw  you 


HOLYLAND  71 

in  that  filthy  office,  '  That's  a  true  Saxon ;  he  won't  follow 
other  people;  he  will  think  things  out  for  himself.'  The 
inside  is  right  enough,  but,  Good  Lord  !  the  outside  !  A 
windbag,  that's  what  you  are — a  windbag.  Do  you  under- 
stand? You  ought  to  be  thoroughly  ashamed  of  your- 
self." 

Kai  leapt  to  his  feet  and  looked  at  the  terrible  man  with 
agonised  eyes.  "  I  know  that  you  are  right,"  he  said. 
"  You  don't  need  to  say  any  more  to  me/'  and  he  darted 
out  of  the  door. 

He  ran  out  into  the  fields,  not  knowing  what 
to  do  with  his  life.  It  was  like  having  been  lifted 
up  into  the  air  and  then  not  knowing  what  field  to  fall 
on  to  when  he  could  hold  aloft  no  longer.  How  often  he 
had  boasted  to  his  parents  of  his  wonderful  doings  at  the 
office,  giving  them  to  understand  that  the  mayor  looked 
upon  him  with  favour,  and  he  was  somebody  already  in 
the  town.  When  he  was  mayor,  as  he  well  might  be 
one  day,  he  would  see  that  Hilligenlei  was  really  a  Holy- 
land.  How  they  had  listened,  their  eyes  full  of  quiet 
happiness ;  his  father  smiling  a  little  in  his  joking 
way  over  his  son's  projects,  but  pleased  enough;  and  his 
mother — she  believed  every  word.  His  face  grew  hot 
with  shame.  He  groaned  as  he  ground  his  teeth  together. 

No,  no  !  Hilligenlei  was  no  Holyland.  He  saw  that 
plainly  enough  now.  He  knew  it  well  enough  now.  There 
was  nothing  holy  in  it.  It  was  a  Bedlam — a  Bedlam  full 
of  lies  and  deceit.  He  had  been  blind.  He  had  not  known 
what  holiness  meant.  He  did  not  know  the  world,  that 
was  what  it  was.  Now  he  must  learnt  to  know  it.  A 
smith  has  to  understand  his  hammer.  A  man  must  know 
the  world  if  he  is  to  be  any  good  at  all.  Know  the  world  ? 
To  do  that  he  must  get  away  from  Hilligenlei  and  go  to 
Hamburg.  Hamburg  was  in  the  world  :  Hamburg  was  the 
world  :  there  he  would  go  into  a  really  big  printing  office  : 
the  great  thing  was  that  he  could  open  his  eyes  there  and 
get  to  know  the  world. 

He  got  up  and  went  slowly  towards  the  town  as  if  his 
feet  were  weighed  down  with  lead.  In  the  harbour  street 
he  saw  Anna  and  Pete  Boje  coming  up  from  the  pier 
and  wanted  to  get  out  of  the  way,  but  their  keen  eyes  had 
perceived  him,  and  they  called  to  him  with  their  clear 
voices.  They  told  him  that  they  were  on  their  way  to  the 


72  HOLYLAND 

park  :  their  mother  had  taken  a  house  in  Chestnut  Row  and 
they  were  going  to  look  at  it.  They  went  up  together, 
counting  the  pleasant-looking,  red-gabled  houses  built  in  a 
straight  row  under  the  chestnuts  by  the  moat  till  they  came 
to  an  empty  one  without  any  curtains  :  that  was  the  one. 
It  was  a  slip  of  a  house,  one  story  high,  the  smallest  in 
the  row ;  downstairs  the  door  and  a  window  on  either  side, 
one  window  in  the  gable.  They  went  in,  along  the 
narrow  passage  that  led  out  into  the  garden  :  looking  into 
the  rooms,  and  out  of  the  kitchen  window.  It  was  a  very 
small  garden,  but  it  had  an  apple  tree  and  a  strip  of  grass 
for  drying  at  the  end,  and  a  little  gate  opening  on  to  the 
pleasant  lane  leading  between  the  gardens  back  into  the 
town. 

The  children  inspected  and  considered  everything  with  a 
wisdom  beyond  their  years,  pronouncing  it  very  satis- 
factory. Anna  especially  was  loud  in  her  praise. 

"The  kitchen  is  my  province,"  she  said,  pressing  her 
forehead  against  the  window.  Then  looking  into  the  bed- 
room, "  I  shall  sleep  there,  and  the  two  boarders  from  the 
cathedral  school  upstairs,  and  I  will  look  after  them." 

"What  will  your  brother  do?  "  said  Kai. 

They  exchanged  looks,  then  Pete  said  quickly,  "  Mother 
has  bought  a  knitting  machine ;  father  left  debts — sixty 
pounds — that  have  to  be  paid  off. ' ' 

"We  don't  mind  telling  yout"  said  Anna.  "Mother 
wanted  Pete  to  go  to  the  technical  school  at  Itzehoe,  but 
that  would  have  meant  her  working  ever  so  hard  at  the  old 
knitting  machine.  So  it's  settled  Pete  is  going  to  begin 
earning  straight  off ;  he's  going  to  sea  in  four  weeks — to 
Hongkong — just  think!  " 

Kai  looked  at  Pete ;  there  was  a  new  expression  in  the 
open  face,  the  earnestness  of  a  set  purpose  that  has  counted 
the  cost  and  is  not  afraid. 

An  idea  came  into  his  mind,  possessed  it  with  irresistible 
force.  Suppose  he  were  to  go  out  into  the  wide  world  as 
a  sailor?  Pe  Ontjes  was  a  sailor.  Pete  was  going  to  be 
one.  Why  shouldn't  he  ?  He  no  longer  saw  or  heard  what 
the  others  were  doing.  ...  A  strange  coast,  what  sort 
of  people  live  there?  are  they  holy  or  not?  Somewhere, 
somewhere  in  the  wide  world  there  must  be  a  Holyland — if 
there  is  not  life  is  a  strangely  meaningless  affair.  .  .  . 
Well,  the  only  thing  was  to  search,  ask  the  people.  What 


HOLYLAND  73 

sort  of  people  live  there?  What  is  their  manner  of  life? 
And  to  go  right  round  the  world  searching  and  asking ; 
only  so  could  one  get  to  know  the  world,  and  somewhere 
in  the  world  one  must  surely  find  the  Holyland.  When  he 
had  found  it,  then  he  would  come  back  home  and  make 
.  .  .  He  no  longer  saw  or  heard  what  the  others  were 
doing ;  lost  in  his  own  thoughts,  his  own  dreams,  he  walked 
silently  beside  them ;  in  the  harbour  street  he  shook  hands 
and  left  them. 

When  he  came  into  the  low  little  room  at  home  he  found 
his  parents  sittj^F  at  dinner  with  his  three  sisters  and  his 
little  brother ;  tilere  were  pieces  of  potato  all  over  the  table, 
a  saucer  with  a  few  wretched  ends  of  bacon  in  the  middle ; 
that  was  their  dinner.  The  hard  frost  had  kept  Thomas 
Jans  out  of  work  for  seven  weeks. 

"  Father,"  he  said,  at  the  door.  "  Pete  Boje  is  going 
to  sea.  I  want  to  go  too.  Don't  ask  me  whether  it  is 
right :  I  know  it  is  right.  Father,  I  must  go  !  " 

They  turned  pale,  and  silence  fell  upon  them.  They 
looked  down,  not  knowing  what  to  say.  If  a  son  had 
come  home  drunk,  even  though  he  were  thirty  years  of 
age,  Thomas  Jans  would  have  chastised  him  with  the 
sudden  resolution  of  fierce  anger.  But  now  that  his  fifteen- 
year-old  son  looked  up  at  him  with  these  serious  eyes  and 
said,  "  Father,  I  must  go,"  a  vague  feeling  of  uneasiness 
and  fear  came  over  him,  a  feeling  that  he  dared  not  bar 
the  way  on  which  his  son's  spirit  seemed  to  be  sent  forth 
as  if  by  great,  unknown,  and  secret  forces,  sent  forth  to 
find  strength.  There  was  a  mixture  of  humour  and  bitter- 
ness in  his  keen,  deep-set  eyes  as  he  murmured,  "  So — to 
sea — and  then,  the  lightship  .  .  .  and  so  a  navvy,  and 
the  best  room  empty,  always  empty." 

"  No,  father,"  said  he,  "  no,  trust  me  for  that.  My  eyes 
are  open,  I  shall  find  something." 

Little  Mala  Jans  sat  silent  by  the  table,  her  eyes  full  of 
tears.  She  only  thought  he  was  going  away  from  her, 
and  to  sea — 

Four  weeks  later  the  two  boys  were  sitting  on  their 
chests,  looking  first  to  the  right  and  then  to  the  left  down 
the  Hamburg  quay,  fairly  deserted  at  this  time  of  day,  and 
then  across  to  the  ship,  lying  ready  in  the  ropes.  They 
were  waiting  for  the  boat  to  come  and  take  them  across. 


74  HOLYLAND 

Pete,  feeling  casually  in  his  pocket,  came  upon  a  piece  of 
paper.  Pulling  it  out  he  saw  written  in  a  little  crooked 
writing  that  he  knew,  "  Keep  God  before  your  eyes  and 
in  your  heart  all  your  life.  Guard  always  against  sin  and 
against  anything  contrary  to  God's  commandment.  Your 
loving  mother,  Hella  Boje. "  Sticking  the  paper  quickly 
back  into  his  pocket  he  looked  down  the  quay  again  as  if 
nothing  had  happened,  wondering,  as  his  father  had  done 
sixteen  years  ago,  how  his  tall  clever  mother  could  pos- 
sibly write  so  badly.  Kai  had  seen,  and  when  Pete 
looked  away  he  began  to  feel  secretly  in  his  pocket,  and 
there  he  found  a  piece  of  paper  right  enough.  He  pulled 
it  out  and  glanced  quickly  over  it.  He  recognised  it  at 
once  as  one  of  those  grand  poems  that  Heine  Wulk  was 
so  fond  of  reprinting.  The  title  was  "  The  Pious  Mother's 
Farewell  to  her  Son  on  Confirmation  Day."  Flushing 
red  he  stuck  it  back  in  his  pocket  without  another  thought. 

Pete  craned  his  neck  and  said,  "  I  say,  who's  that  coming 
along?  Isn't  it  your  friend  the  Dusenschon  boy?  " 

"Very  likely,"  said  Kai,  "  he  has  been  four  weeks  in 
Hamburg." 

It  was  Tjark  Dusenschon,  certainly.  He  came  along 
tall  and  straight-limbed,  a  graceful  figure  now  that  he  had 
abandoned  the  stiff  walk  copied  from  the  mayor,  his  blue 
tie  blowing  about. 

"  I  knew  you  were  going  on  board  to-day.  It's  a  pity 
for  you  to  be  going,  Kai,  you  ought  to  have  gone  into  an 
office  like  me.  I  have  a  very  good  position  with  a 
barrister." 

Pete  paid  no  sort  of  attention  to  him.  His  eyes  were 
fixed  on  the  ship  watching  the  people  go  on  board,  and  a 
man  slide  down  into  the  boat. 

"Where  are  you  going  now?  "  said  Kai. 

"  I  am  on  my  way  to  meet  a  friend  who  is  going  to 
introduce  me  to  his  club — only  for  officials  and  their  wives. 
I  don't  care  anything  at  all  for  women,  but  that's  just 
the  sort  of  person  to  whom  they  are  most  useful.  Always 
polite,  pleasant,  cool,  you  see,  that's  what  I  am  !  And 
then  my  name  is  magnificent,  Tjark  Dusenschon,  and  my 
royal  blood " 

"  You  don't  talk  about  that,  do  you?  "  said  Kai. 

"  No,  not  I.  I  leave  that  to  others."  Seeing  the  boat 
approaching  he  stepped  back. 


HOLYLAND  75 

"  Well,  boys,"  said  the  sailor,  "  there  you  are.  If  you 
haven't  got  sense  you  have  got  luck,  she's  a  right  good 
ship.  Is  the  long  thing  coming  too?  " 

"  No,"  said  Dusenschon,  taking  a  step  further  back. 

"  A  good  voyage  to  you  !  "  and  waving  his  hat  grace- 
fully he  stalked  away. 

When  the  boxes  were  on  the  thwarts  Pete  caught  hold 
of  the  oars  with  both  hands  and  pushed  the  boat  off. 

"  Holloa,"  said  the  sailor,  "  so  that's  the  sort  you  are, 
are  you?  " 

Kai  Jans,  lost  in  thought,  was  gazing  into  the  water. 

"Push  the  box  to  one  side,"  said  the  sailor — "a 
philosopher,  eh?  "  he  said  to  Pete. 

Pete  gave  a  short,  scornful  laugh.  "  Yes,  he  is  look- 
ing for  a  kingdom  !  " 


CHAPTER    VIII 

IN  the  little  house  under  the  chesnuts  by  the  park  the 
two  Boje  girls  grew  up  apace,  very  tall,  very  slender,  with 
masses  of  thick,  fair  hair,  so  tall  indeed  that  strangers 
who  happened  to  pass  by  when  one  of  the  children  came 
out  of  the  house  would  say  in  surprise,  "  What  big  people 
live  in  that  little  house  !  "  Anna  Boje  passed  her  seven- 
teenth year  and  entered  on  her  eighteenth.  She  carried 
her  magnificently  proportioned  figure,  crowned  as  if  by  a 
royal  diadem  by  the  waves  of  her  fair  hair,  with  a  grace  of 
movement  that  would  have  befitted  the  highest  rank. 
Nothing  in  Hilligenlei  was  so  beautiful  as  she.  Ignorant 
alike  of  herself  and  of  the  world  she  dreamed  the  dreams 
of  girlhood  with  no  wishes  beyond  the  accomplishment  of 
her  household  duties — for  her  mother  sat  all  day  at  the 
knitting  machine — good  news  from  Pete,  and,  one  day,  a 
clever,  handsome  husband  for  herself.  Heinke  was  in  her 
eleventh  year,  a  long-legged,  fair-haired  child,  with  dainty 
clear-cut  features,  and  eyes  as  grey  as  steel.  She  glayed 
with  the  boys  of  the  neighbourhood,  in  winter  in  the  park, 
under  the  trees  or  on  the  ice,  in  summer  on  the  sands  at 
low  tide  right  out  to  the  mouth  of  the  harbour  stream. 
Like  her  sister  Anna  at  the  same  age,  she  was  never  with- 
out a  bruise  somewhere  on  hand,  knee,  or  foot,  the  mark 
of  a  push,  a  knock,  or  a  tumble ;  and  yet,  though  she  was 
in  the  thick  of  everything,  shouting  and  running  with  the 
best  of  them,  she  was  reckoned  proud,  like  her  sister, 
because  of  a  kind  of  royal  dignity  in  their  erect  bearing, 
their  delicate  pink  and  white  faces,  their  calm,  clear  eyes. 
Heinke 's  thoughts  did  not  travel  very  far.  When  she  was 
alone  she  thought  of  her  big  brother  Pete's  home-coming, 
with  a  certain  fear  of  his  being  rough  and  boorish ;  for  the 
rest  she  was  content  with  a  day  on  which  her  pride  was 
gratified  by  success  at  school,  and  her  mother  did  not 
scold.  No  day  passed  without  some  wrangle  with  Hett, 


HOLYLAND  77 

her  youngest  brother,  who  wanted  everything  his  own  way. 
His  mother  loved  him  most  of  all,  and  always  took  his 
part,  but  as  a  matter  of  fact  he  was  a  liar,  greedy,  and 
weak,  the  rotten  twig  on  a  splendid  tree. 

Hella  Boje's  hair  lost  its  beautiful  sheen  in  these  years. 
She  could  not  get  into  touch  with  her  daughters,  their 
shyness  kept  them  from  any  expression  of  tenderness. 
She  knew  that  they  would  not  turn  to  her  until  the  years 
brought  to  them  also  understanding  of  a  man's  love  and 
so  of  their  mother.  Now,  therefore,  all  her  love  ex- 
pended itself  upon  her  two  sons,  one  gone  out  into  the 
wide  world  to  help  her,  the  other  so  pretty  and  loving  in 
his  ways,  who  put  his  arms  round  her  with  such  coaxing 
tenderness  although  a  big  boy  now.  It  was  of  them  and 
of  their  future  that  she  thought  as  she  sat  at  her  knitting 
machine  all  day  long. 

It  was  an  evening  in  April :  the  chestnuts  were  be- 
ginning to  be  spiked  with  green.  Anna  dawdled  instead 
of  going  down  to  Harbourmaster  Lau's  to  borrow  the  big 
map  of  Eastern  Asia  on  which  her  mother  followed  the 
route  of  Pete's  ship  with  never  wearied  interest.  "  I  don't 
like  going  now,"  she  said,  "  that  great  Pe  Ontjes  is  there, 
the  map  belongs  to  him.  Lena  Winkler  says  he  gives 
himself  the  airs  of  an  old  man  of  fifty,  though  he  can't  be 
more  than  twenty-four.  He  was  insufferable  even  as  a 
boy."  Her  mother  paid  no  attention,  merely  remarking, 
"  Go,  now,  don't  make  a  fuss." 

It  was  with  a  very  haughty  expression  that  she  took  off 
her  apron,  and  went  out  by  the  back  door  through  the 
garden  into  the  lane,  and  so  in  at  the  kitchen  door  to  the 
harbourmaster's  house.  She  hoped  to  find  the  mother 
there  and  get  her  to  bring  out  the  map.  She  was  there 
washing  up,  but  her  only  reply  was  to  say,  pleasantly 
enough,  "Am  I  your  train-bearer?  Go  and  get  it  for 
yourself,  he  won't  bite. " 

Mate  Pe  Ontjes  Lau  sat  by  the  table  at  work  on  a  big 
drawing.  Looking  up  calmly  he  said  in  the  tone  which  a 
young  mate  uses  to  a  sailor, 

' '  Well  ?     What  do  you  want  ?  ' ' 

She  stood  as  straight  as  a  dart,  anger  rising  within  her, 
and  told  him  in  a  high,  rapid  voice  the  reason  of  her 
coming. 

He  got  up  in  his  slow,  comfortable  way,  and  took  down 


78  HOLYLAND 

the  map  from  the  wall.  ' '  How  is  your  brother  getting  on  ? 
Rather  at  a  difficult  stage  just  at  present." 

"  How  do  you  mean,  Mr.  Lau?  " 

"Well,  about  eighteen  one  does  not  want  to  be  a  boy 
any  longer,  and  one  hasn't  quite  become  a  man." 

"  Pete  wants  to  be  what  he  is,  always,"  said  she,  ''he 
hasn't  got  such  an  immense  idea  of  himself  as  some 
people." 

He  did  not  see  the  hit,  but  he  was  pleased  at  being 
addressed  as  Mr.  Lau.  His  tone  was  rather  more  friendly 
as  he  said,  "  Look  what  I  am  drawing  here." 

She  came  quietly  close  up  to  the  table  and  examined  the 
drawing.  As  she  did  so  he  looked  at  her  and  was  conscious 
of  a  curious  feeling  of  pleasure  in  the  contemplation  of  the 
strength,  health,  and  purity  of  this  handsome  girl,  a  feel- 
ing such  as  one  has  when,  after  going  far  and  passing 
thousands  of  houses,  forgotten  as  soon  as  seen,  one  sud- 
denly comes  upon  one,  standing  in  a  quiet  green  garden, 
full  of  an  intimate  charm  that  so  sets  it  apart  from  all  the 
others  that  even  after  one  has  passed  it  also  one  cherishes 
a  tender  remembrance. 

"  That's  the  Hilligenlei  harbour  stream,"  he  said. 

"  What's  the  drawing  for?  " 

"  I  have  long  had  the  idea " 

"  Fifty  years  at  least "  said  she. 

' '  What  are  you  saying  about  fifty  years  ?  ' '  said  he. 

"You  talk  as  though  you  were  fifty,"  said  she,  calmly. 

This  froze  him  again.  He  said  coldly,  "  I  have  worked 
out  a  plan  for  having  the  channel  laid  straight  so  that  the 
crabfishers  can  get  quicker  to  their  lines  and  the  smacks 
come  in  and  out  at  any  time;  I'm  going  to  lay  it  before 
the  mayor  to-night." 

"  Indeed."     She  gave  another  hasty  glance  at  the  map. 

"  When  do  you  sail  again?  " 

' '  To-morrow.  I  am  going  to  Samoa  as  mate  on  the 
Gude  Wife.  I  have  been  mate  for  the  last  three  years." 

"  Indeed,"  she  said,  tossing  back  her  head  so  that  he 
could  see  her  white  throat.  "  Pete  will  be  mate  in  two 
years." 

The  force  of  unconscious  attraction  held  them,  but  they 
tried  hard  to  hurt  one  another  in  some  way. 

"  I  should  like  Kai  Jans  and  Pete  on  board  with  me 
well  enough,"  said  he,  as  if  lost  in  thought. 


HOLYLAND  79 

"I  daresay  you  would,"  said  she.  "They  will  take 
good  care  of  that !  ' ' 

"Why?"  said  he. 

"  Why?  "  said  she,  standing  by  this  time  in  the  doorway. 
"  Why?  It  would  hardly  be  pleasant  for  them." 

"Why  not?" 

"  Well,"  said  she,  "  you  played  with  us  as  children,  and 
now — now  you  like  me  to  call  you  Mr.  Lau  !  Mr.  Lau 
indeed  !  And  who  are  you  ?  Think  of  that  time  on  the 
sandbank  !  " 

Suddenly  it  flashed  across  his  mind  that  he  had  stood 
naked  before  her.  She  blushed  and  cried  out  in  an  out- 
burst of  uncontrollable  rage,  "  You  are  just  the  same  now, 
just  as  insufferable  as  you  were  then.  That's  what  I 
wanted  to  say  to  you.  So  there  !  ' ' 

She  banged  the  door  and  was  gone. 

When  she  got  home  she  said  to  her  mother,  "  He  is  the 
most  insufferable  person  in  the  whole  world,  and  a  fool 
to  boot.  I  am  not  going  to  Aunt  Lau's  again  as  long  as 
he  is  there."  Then  she  went  to  prepare  supper. 

After  supper  a  mad  idea  took  possession  of  her ;  she 
would  run  down  the  lane  into  the  town  hall  garden.  The 
mayor  always  sat  with  his  curtains  drawn  back  so  that 
everyone  could  see  him  at  work.  She  would  give  a  cautious 
peep  in  at  the  window. 

As  soon  as  it  was  dark  the  idea  was  carried  out.  She 
took  up  her  position  among  the  shrubs  by  the  window. 
There  was  Pe  Ontjes  Lau  standing  by  the  big  table,  his 
drawing  spread  out  in  front  of  him.  At  the  table  sat 
Daniel  Peters,  handsome  and  dignified,  the  two  aldermen 
beside  him,  struggling  not  to  fall  asleep.  Pe  Ontjes  was 
saying  with  his  usual  calm  assurance,  "That's  what 
must  be  done." 

The  mayor  twisted  his  beautiful  silky  moustache  and 
began  affably,  with  a  side  glance  at  the  two  old  men, 

"  My  dear  Mr.  Lau "  Then  he  began  a  discourse 

on  what  he  called  a  "  sound  system  of  local  administra- 
tion," which  seemed  to  have  every  reasonable  prospect 
of  lasting  indefinitely.  While  he  was  still  in  full  train 
Pe  Ontjes  suddenly  packed  up  Hilligenlei  and  the  harbour 
stream  under  his  arm  and  saying  calmly,  "  I  will  reserve 
my  scheme  for  the  new  mayor,"  departed  with  his  drawing. 

Anna   Boje  was   still   standing  confused   and  annoyed 


8o  HOLYLAND 

by  such  behaviour  when  she  heard  his  step 
draw  near.  He  also  was  making  his  way  home  through 
the  garden. 

"  Hullo,"  said  he,  mockingly,  "  Eavesdropping  ?  " 

' '  What  is  that  to  you  ?  I  can  stand  where  I  choose,  I 
suppose?  " 

"You're  a  cross-grained,  quarrelsome  chit,"  said  he, 
in  a  tone  of  serious  annoyance.  "  Unless  you  change  you 
will  come  to  no  good." 

"  Who  are  you  to  speak  to  me?  "  said  she,  "  when  you 
can't  even  spell  channel — on  your  drawing  it  was  written 
channal — channal !  You  didn't  learn  much  at  school.  Do 
you  suppose  I  don't  know  that?  You  only  got  to  the  top 
by  beating  everyone  who  knew  more  than  you.  There  !  " 

Pale  with  anger  he  turned  away.  Going  in  the  opposite 
direction  she  breathed  deep  with  excitement,  thinking. 
"  You  will  never  hate  anyone  so  much  in  all  your  life  as  you 
hate  him."  She  absolutely  revelled  in  this  new  feeling 
until  it  spread  so  as  to  fill  her  soul,  while  she  imagined  ways 
of  showing  him  her  boundless  contempt,  and  wondered 
whether  Pete  could  help  her  to  pain  him.  "  I  wish  I  could 
do  him  some  harm.  If  I  could  only  harm  him  somehow." 
Her  spirit  was  troubled  with  dark  confused  thoughts,  and 
her  lovely  eyes  had  a  hard  look  in  them.  She  gave  a  quick 
sob.  Then  she  walked  down  the  chestnut  walk  towards  her 
house,  and  then  turning  up  and  down  several  streets  till 
she  became  more  calm,  a  great  longing  filled  her  for  some- 
one towards  whom  she  could  feel  friendly.  For  some  time 
she  could  not  find  anyone;  then  near  Ringerangs  inn, under 
the  lime  trees  on  the  further  side  of  the  park,  she  came 
upon  a  farmer's  son  who  had  sat  next  to  her  in  school 
at  Friestadt.  He  recognised  her,  and  waited  till  she  drew 
near. 

"  I  knew  you  from  your  walk,"  said  he.  "  I  should  know 
you  half  a  mile  off  !  "  He  walked  by  her  side  and  told 
her  he  had  come  back  the  day  before  yesterday  from  serv- 
ing in  the  army. 

It  was  quite  exciting  to  have  this  handsome  boy  walk- 
ing by  her  side,  so  full  of  friendliness.  Anna  talked  in  a 
way  unusual  for  her,  about  her  mother,  and  Pete;  asked 
him  about  his  sister  and  one  mutual  friend  after  another, 
and  as  they  talked  their  eyes  filled  with  a  tender  pleasure 
in  one  another  that  rose  higher  and  higher. 


HOLYLAND  81 

"  What  dear  eyes  he  has  !  " 

"  How  dear  and  pure  her  eyes  are  !  " 

"  What  a  delightful  laugh." 

"  How  I  should  like  to  touch  her  hair  with  my  hand ;  it 
is  so,  so  beautiful." 

"Dear  boy,  how  nicely  he  speaks  of  Pete." 

"  If  I  could  only  press  her  to  me  once,  and  hold  her 
fast!  " 

When  they  turned  into  the  lonely  limewalk  that  goes 
across  the  park  to  the  chestnut  trees,  his  thoughts  became 
more  and  more  insistent  and  absorbing ;  he  became  silent, 
and  she  likewise,  quite  silent.  In  his  young  manhood  he 

thought  fearfully.     "  Dare  I — kiss  her?  she  is  very  proud. 
>  >  > 

Her  heart  thumped  and  her  throat  seemed  to  close 
up  as  she  thought,  "  He  is  going  to  kiss  me.  ..."  She 
thrilled  with  the  sweet  joyful  thought.  When  they  came 
to  the  last  piece  of  shade  he  caught  hold  of  her,  and  kissed 
her,  kissed  her  many  times,  without  saying  a  word.  She 
stood  quite  still  in  unspeakable  confusion. 

When  he  let  her  go  she  ran  till  she  came  to  the  door  of 
her  house.  Then  going  into  the  kitchen  she  cooled  her 
burning  cheeks  and  brow  with  water ;  but  they  still  glowed 
with  excitement.  In  order  to  have  an  excuse  for  remaining 
in  the  kitchen  she  fetched  her  mother's  store  of  silver,  six 
dessert  spoons,  a  dozen  teaspoons,  and  a  sugar  bowl,  and 
began  to  clean  it. 

Still  dreaming  herself  in  his  arms  she  rubbed  and 
polished,  and  in  the  midst  of  her  absorption  the  child  in 
her  balanced  each  spoon  between  two  fingers  of  her  up- 
lifted hand  so  that  it  stood  out  bright  against  the  dark- 
ness of  the  kitchen  wall. 

"  Oh,  how  heavenly  it  was  .  .  .  firm  and  strong  he 
stood  there  and  clasped  me  fast  ...  so  that  I  couldn't 
move.  .  .  .  Oh  the  joy  .  .  .  the  wonder  of  it  ...  my 
knees  felt  quite  weak  ...  I  was  so  utterly  happy." 

Dreaming  thus,  her  hands  and  eyes  playing,  like  chil- 
dren left  alone,  with  the  spoons,  came  upon  the  names  writ- 
ten upon  them,  "  On  the  occasion  of  their  marriage  .  .  . "  it 
stood  on  each,  with  the  name  of  the  giver  and  the  date 
after  it. 

"  I  wonder  what  mother  looked  like  then.  She 
was  as  young  as  I  am,  only  two  years  older  .  .  .  young 

G 


82  HOLYLAND 

and  beautiful  and  happy.  Oh,  what  happiness  to  be 
always  with  the  one  one  loves  best  in  the  world  .  .  .  that 
must  be  lovely,  and  fearful  too  at  the  same  time,  fearful 
...  oh  no,  not  fearful  at  all,  altogether  lovely.  Then 
the  first  baby  came — that  was  me.  I  wonder  was  mother 
very  big  then :  some  women  look  so  hideous.  Was  she 
very  ill?  How  long  did  they  live  alone  together  without 
children?  .  .  .  Oh,  yes,  I  can  tell  from  the  spoons." 
Holding  a  spoon  up  against  the  light  she  counted  from 
the  wedding  day  to  her  birthday,  then  counted  again,  her 
lips  contracting  to  a  narrow  line  and  a  hard  expression 
coming  in  her  eyes ;  she  threw  the  silver  noisily  into  the 
drawer  and  went  upstairs  to  her  room  without  saying 
good-night  to  her  mother. 

From  this  day  her  natural  pride  and  shyness 
grew.  At  first  she  could  not  resist  the  tempta- 
tion of  going  along  the  limewalk  when  she  had 
shopping  to  do  in  the  evening,  to  stop  at  the  spot  where 
he  had  kissed  her,  standing  with  her  eyes  shut  to  feel  all 
the  sweetness  of  that  kiss.  Soon,  however,  she  forced 
herself  to  resist.  She  did  not  want  to  think  of  such  things. 
They  seemed  to  her  now  full  of  hidden  dangers,  like  the 
soft  grass  that  grows  above  a  bog ;  she  felt  vaguely  that 
hot  blood  ran  in  her  veins,  and  was  uneasy  as  is  the  wood 
in  May  when  the  morning  gray  brings  the  first  birds. 

She  was  harsh  towards  her  mother,  speaking  as  little  as 
possible,  and  found  fault  continually  with  Heinke  and  Hett. 

In  autumn,  when  the  big  schoolboys  who  lived  in  their 
attic  threw  down  a  chestnut  or  a  branch  to  her  as  she 
passed  below  she  took  no  notice. 

When  she  went  to  balls  she  was  in  great  request  as  a 
dancer,  especially  among  men  who  danced  well.  The  ex- 
quisite grace  with  which  she  danced  and  her  superb  beauty 
made  it  a  joy  to  move  and  be  near  her;  but  no  one  ever 
ventured  to  invite  her  to  take  a  glass  of  champagne  or 
stroll  under  the  dark  trees.  And  she  noticed  that  this  was 
so,  and  she  grew  more  and  more  proud  and  scornful,  and 
pretended  that  she  had  no  inclination  for  such  things, 
almost  persuading  herself  that  it  was  the  case. 

Her  mother  bore  her  eldest  child's  coldness  in  silence, 
remembering  her  own  restless  unhappiness  at  that  time  in 
her  life,  and  feeling  powerless  to  help.  She  worked  all 
day  at  the  knitting  machine  to  pay  off  the  sixty  pounds  of 


HOLYLAND  83 

debt,  taking-  every  penny  and  shilling  that  Pete  sent  from 
his  small  earnings  for  that  purpose  carefully  wrapped  up 
in  paper  to  the  saving's  bank,  to  be  ready  for  the  naval 
school,  longing  for  the  day  of  his  return  to  come  at  last. 

Autumn  came  again  with  its  beautiful  days  of  fresh  wind 
and  clear  sunshine;  and  the  sun  shone  through  the  little 
window  above  the  door  into  the  dim  little  passage,  and  at 
last  the  postman  came,  and  this  time  with  a  parcel.  A 
parcel !  Afterwards  they  could  hardly  tell  how  they  had 
all  managed  to  get  into  the  passage  together ;  the  little  place 
was  illuminated  by  the  fair  heads.  Then  they  took  the 
parcel  into  the  sitting  room.  Heinke,  always  ready  and 
never  in  a  hurry,  had  the  chisel  ready  in  her  hand  to  break 
the  wood  open ;  and  she  took  out  the  little  Chinese  boxes 
carefully  packed  close  together  inside  in  a  strange  fibrous 
kind  of  straw.  The  name  of  the  owner  was  on  each. 

"That's  yours,  mother."  Hella  Boje  sat  down  on  her 
chair  beside  the  machine  and  touched  the  shiny  black  wood 
with  trembling  fingers. 

"  He  bought  it,"  she  said  softly,  "he  held  it  in  his 
hand,"  and  her  eyes  suddenly  filled  with  tears. 

Anna  gazed  in  silence  with  an  expressionless  face  at  the 
delicate  object  in  her  hand,  thinking  with  a  secret  softening 
of  the  heart  of  the  brother  whom  she  dearly  loved. 

Heinke  had  put  aside  her  song  book,  and  taking  off  her 
jet  necklace  placed  it  in  her  box,  admiring  its  workmanship 
and  praising  her  absent  brother  in  affectionate  tones.  "  It 
is  too  sweet  of  him,  mother.  .  .  One  thing,  mother,  Hett 
shan't  have  this  one,  anyhow." 

Hett  looked  round,  ready  to  complain  if  the  others  had 
come  off  better  than  he  had ;  seeing  no  present  grievance 
he  went  out  to  play. 

Hella  Boje  held  the  letter  in  her  hand,  but  could  not 
read  it  because  her  eyes  were  full  of  tears. 

"Read  it  out,  mother." 

"  I  can't,  dear  :  you  read  it." 

So  Heinke  read  : 

"  MY  DEAR  MOTHER, — I  bought  this  for  you  the  day  we 
came  here,  Hongkong,  from  Vladivostock.  I  wanted 
to  give  it  to  you  myself,  but  now  I  have  come  to  the  con- 
clusion I  am  not  going  to  come  back  to  Hilligenlei  until  I 
can  go  straight  to  the  navigation  school.  That's  another 

0   ? 


84  HOLYLAND 

year  from  now.  I  am  earning  more  here,  you  see.  I  don't 
know  whether  Kai  Jans  will  go  with  me  on  to  my  next 
ship.  You  see  we  have  served  our  time  now  and  we're  on 
the  lookout  for  a  first-rate  sailing  vessel.  If  he  wants  to 
come  with  me  again  I  shall  be  quite  glad,  for  he  is  really 
a  nice  fellow,  but  I  don't  depend  upon  it.  I  expect  he  will 
stay  with  me  because  he  needs  to  have  somebody  to  talk  to 
about  everything,  and  he  can't  do  that  with  the  old  sailors. 
He  is  an  extraordinary  creature. 

"  Dear  Anna,  you  can  keep  darning  needles  in  your  box. 
You  must  have  a  great  deal  to  do  for  the  two  children. 
What  am  I  saying?  Heinke  must  be  a  great  girl  by  now 
and  Hett  is  eleven  !  When  I  was  buying  your  box  the 
Chinaman,  having  no  respect  for  my  eighteen  years,  tried 
to  cheat  me.  He  didn't  see  our  sail-maker  standing 
behind  me,  however,  and  he  gave  him  such  a  box  on  the 
ear  that  he  fell  down  on  the  matting.  So  here  it  is.  I 
have  had  to  buy  a  new  suit  of  clothes,  my  old  coat  was 
quite  done,  and  I  had  grown  out  of  it.  I  have  still  seventy- 
five  shillings  in  my  box  which  will  come  to  you  soon  after 
this  parcel.  Fifty  shillings  are  to  go  into  the  savings  bank 
for  the  navigation  school,  twenty-five  to  go  to  paying  off 
father's  debts,  if  you  are  well  and  can  spare  the  money. 
Dear  Anna,  be  a  good  daughter  and  don't  let  mother  sit 
all  day  at  the  knitting  machine.  If  I  keep  my  strength  I 
can  pay  off  father's  debts  in  five  years.  She  is  not  to  sit 
doubled  up  for  that !  Dear  mother,  you  are  not  to  worry 
over  the  stockings,  I  can  darn  my  own  just  as  well  as 
Anna  does  them.  I  can  tell  you  there's  not  a  button 
missing  on  any  of  my  shirts  or  drawers.  Always  smart, 
that's  the  first  thing  :  then  second,  attention  !  and  third, 
never  contented — always  learning  and  getting  further 
on.  Trust  me,  my  eyes  are  always  open.  There 
was  a  young  American  on  board  our  old  ship,  he  only 
wanted  to  see  the  world,  he  said,  that  was  all,  and  then 
become  whatever  he  chose.  His  father  is  a  clergyman. 
I  learnt  a  great  deal  from  him.  Never  say  die — that's  my 
motto ;  one  must  always  be  ready  and  bright,  and  I  am 
that,  you  can  be  sure.  Kai  is  no  good  at  it,  he's  always 
so  shy,  like  neighbour  Martin's  two-year-old — do  you  re- 
member it,  Anna?  Once  we  ran  after  it  for  half  a  day. 
You  wanted  to  ride  on  him,  but  we  could  not  catch  him. 

1 '  Dear  mother,  I  have  decided  always  to  go  on  a  sailing 


HOLYLAND  85 

vessel.  Lots  of  people  think  they  are  going  out  of  fashion, 
but  the  captain  said  to  the  mate,  '  You'll  see,  mate,  big 
sailing  vessels  will  always  be  the  cheapest  for  heavy 
freights  and  long  distance  journeys.'  A  little  while  ago 
a  lovely  American  sailing  vessel  passed  us,  magnificent,  I 
can  tell  you.  It  hadn't  any  more  canvas  sail  than  we  had, 
but  it  beat  us  for  all  that.  The  mate  swore  and  the 
captain  pretended  not  to  see.  I  examined  it  to  see  how  it 
was.  In  Vancouver  and  San  Francisco  I  spent  the  whole 
day  at  the  docks ;  I  enjoyed  myself,  I  can  tell  you.  A  dock 
like  that  is  my  Hilligenlei,  my  Holyland. 

"  Kai  Jans,  I  do  believe,  went  to  sea  to  find  it.  Every 
time  we  go  on  shore  he  cranes  his  neck  and  goes  among  the 
people  and  through  the  streets  with  his  eyes  open  ever  so 
wide,  not  saying  a  word.  We  were  in  Vancouver  for 
twenty  days,  and  pretty  free.  He  got  hold  of  an  extra- 
ordinary old  sailor  who  went  on  shore  there  and  they  went 
off  for  three  days  right  through  the  town  and  up  into  the 
mountains.  Afterwards,  when  we  were  being  tugged  out 
of  the  harbour  he  forgot  his  work  and  everything  in  gazing 
over  to  the  mountains ;  and  suddenly  he  said  to  me,  '  Do 
you  know,  there  is  a  magnificent  country  there,  beyond 
the  mountains,  wide  and  broad  and  clean  as  if  it  was  holy. 
I  shall  go  and  settle  there  one  day,  I  think.' 
The  end  of  the  story,  of  course,  was  a  talking  to  from 
the  mate.  All  the  time  we  have  been  away  from 
Hilligenlei  he  hasn't  got  to  know  anyone  except  me  and 
the.  queer  old  man.  He's  always  by  himself  or  listening 
with  wide-open  eyes.  They  all  like  him  because  he's  a 
good  fellow,  always  ready  to  help ;  and  when  the  steward 
was  so  ill  he  burst  into  tears. 

"Dear  mum,  when  I  come  home  you'll  be  astonished 
to  see  how  big  and  brown  I  have  got.  You  can't  imagine 
what  my  hands  are  like.  Goodbye.  Keep  well,  and 
think  often  of  your  loving  son  and  brother, 

"PETEBOJE." 

Each  of  them  read  the  letter  at  least  three  times  to 
herself,  and  they  talked  it  all  over,  with  occasional  in- 
tervals of  silent  thought.  Then  Hett  came  in  and  went 
to  bed.  Then  Anna  and  Heinke  went  too — Anna,  cold 
as  usual,  without  saying  good-night;  Heinke  quiet  and 
gentle. 


86  HOLYLAND 

Hella  Boje  sat  for  an  hour  at  the  machine.  The  dull, 
monotonous  tick-tack  of  the  lever  went  on  in  the  low, 
little  room.  Then  she  went  into  the  bedroom.  She  went 
up  to  her  children's  beds  and  bent  over  their  faces — first 
Hett,  her  youngest ;  in  the  dim  light  of  the  lamp  she 
could  see  the  strongly  marked,  obstinate  lines  of  his 
handsome  face;  then  Heinke;  and  for  a  long  time  she 
stood,  lost  in  thought,  as  she  gazed  at  the  clear,  calm 
face  with  its  open  features  and  strong,  beautiful  mouth. 

Going  across  to  the  room  where  Anna  slept,  she  saw 
as  she  looked  down  upon  her  that  the  time  was  not  far 
off  when  she  would  be  a  woman — a  strong,  passionate 
woman,  like  herself. 

She  went  back  to  the  other  room,  and,  sitting  on  the 
edge  of  her  own  bed,  thought  of  the  conversation  she 
had  more  than  once  had  with  her  husband.  "  Unless  our 
children  are  fortunate  enough  to  come  early  into  good 
hands,  they  are  almost  sure  to  suffer  much."  Folding 
her  hands,  she  began  to  pray  fervently  for  her  children. 

As  the  ardour  of  her  prayer  abated,  her  thoughts,  now 
more  at  rest,  came  to  her  hero,  her  brave  one  in  the  far, 
far  distance,  wondering  how  he  looked  and  whether  he 
were  now  voyaging  on  a  new  ship.  So  she  fell  asleep 
and  dreamt-— dreamt  that  she  saw  his  ship,  a  tall  and 
graceful  vessel  with  two  masts  placed  in  front  at  a 
curious  angle.  And  it  was  cast  from  side  to  side  by  a 
heavy  swell,  purposelessly,  as  if  by  the  hands  of  wanton 
children.  She  seemed  to  see  the  deck  desolate  and  ruined, 
and  thought,  "That  is  no  Hilligenlei. "  She  stood 
anxiously  on  the  bank  gazing  at  the  ship,  and  saw  it 
distinctly — how  distinctly  !  Yes,  there  it  was,  driven  on, 
tossed  and  turned  by  the  swell  that  rose  in  waves  as  big 
as  houses. 


CHAPTER   IX 

THE  schooner  Clara  from  Hamburg  drove  before  a  light 
breeze  and  heavy  swell  on  the  southern  China  sea.  She 
had  suffered  severely  in  the  eight  days'  storm,  having 
lost  half  her  railing  and  the  whole  of  the  forecastle  cabin, 
to  say  nothing  of  the  main  sail. 

They  had  chosen  very  ill.  Fourteen  days  ago,  when 
they  were  hanging  about  the  quay  at  Hongkong,  the 
Clara  lay  in  harbour,  long  and  narrow,  with  her  masts 
bent  very  far  forward.  Pete,  who  devoured  every  vessel 
with  his  eyes,  stared  across  at  the  schooner  till  its  boat 
came  to  land,  and  then  he  asked  its  name  and  destination 
of  the  awkward,  emaciated-looking  man  who  sat  in  it, 
looking  at  them  with  anxious  eyes. 

"  Havre,  with  tea  and  matting.  We  want  two  hands. 
I  am  the  mate." 

They  asked  one  question  after  another,  Pete  casting 
longing  eyes  the  while  at  the  grey  schooner.  Then  they 
stepped  back  and  consulted  together.  They  would  rather 
have  gone  to  America,  'Frisco,  or  Vancouver  on  one  of 
the  huge  wooden,  four-masted  schooners,  new  and 
strongly  built,  and  the  best  pay  in  the  world.  But,  after 
all,  where  they  went  did  not  matter  much,  and  the 
schooner  was  splendidly  built,  certainly. 

They  took  their  leave  of  the  good  old  ship  with  every- 
thing in  order,  but  their  consciences  were  strangely  per- 
turbed, and  they  shrank  away  as  if  doing  something  that 
they  would  not  like  to  be  seen. 

They  had  now  been  eight  days  at  sea,  and  knew  that 
they  had  done  a  very  stupid  thing. 

The  captain  was  drunk  all  day  long;  the  mate  was  a 
fool,  who  should  have  been  a  tailor  instead  of  a  sailor. 
The  cook,  an  elderly  man,  generally  more  than  half-drunk, 
had  been  on  the  Clara  for  years,  and  in  the  course  of 


88  HOLYLAND 

time  got  the  captain  completely  under  his  thumb.  The 
crew — twelve  hands  in  all — had  been  picked  up  eight  days 
ago  in  Hongkong  and  Macao  from  the  ends  of  the 
earth.  There  was  a  Hamburger,  who  had  destroyed  him- 
self, body  and  soul,  with  brandy;  a  tall,  pale  Frenchman, 
two  Austrians,  a  Dutchman,  three  Italians,  two  Belgians, 
a  short,  pleasant  little  Dane,  and  a  dirty  navvy  from 
Gateshead,  who  was  lame.  They  were  all  young  and  in- 
experienced, all  more  or  less  possessed  by  the  brandy 
fiend.  Not  one  of  them  was  over  two-and-twenty. 

And  the  vessel  ?  What  is  the  use  of  graceful  outline  if 
every  week  you  have  to  spend  an  hour  at  the  stiff,  creaky 
pump,  and  canvas,  ropes,  and  metal-work  is  all  rusty 
and  mouldy? 

And  now  the  storm  had  washed  away  the  whole  fore- 
castle, with  galley,  bunks,  chests,  sacks — everything  in 
it.  They  stood,  now,  on  the  greasy  decks,  the  ship  roll- 
ing heavily  from  side  to  side,  most  of  them  half-drunk, 
all  of  them  wet  to  the  skin,  hungry,  and  cold.  Some  were 
clearing  away  the  ropes  that  hung  about  the  scupper 
hold ;  others  were  mending  the  wretched  old  sails ;  others 
patching  the  railing,  cursing  the  while,  and  discussing 
the  damage  that  had  been  done. 

Pete  Boje  sat  half-buried  in  a  sail  with  an  angry,  for- 
bidding expression  on  his  face,  Kai  Jans  beside  him, 
splicing  a  topsail  yard.  His  features  looked  drawn  and 
pinched — showed  the  signs  of  exhaustion  and  want  of 
sleep.  They  shrank  from  meeting  each  other's  eyes,  in 
shame  of  their  own  stupidity. 

Then  the  others  began  to  mock  at  Pete  Boje.  ' '  Come 
now,  Hilligenleier,  what  are  you  working  so  hard  for? 
Why  do  you  always  hang  about  the  captain  and  the  mate 
when  they  are  on  deck?  And  why,  when  it  isn't  your 
watch,  do  you  lie  on  deck  in  the  cold  instead  of  going  to 
sleep?" 

Pulling  himself  together,  Pete  laughed  pleasantly  and 
said,  "  It's  because  I'm  afraid  for  all  your  lives  that  I'm 
always  on  the  watch,  day  and  night." 

Thereupon  they  said,  "  Not  if  we  know  it !  We  don't 
trust  you  the  least,  not  in  the  least!  " 

"  He's  false  !  "  said  several  voices. 

"  Only  yesterday,"  said  the  Austrian,  "  I  had  just  had 
a  glass,  and  was  busy  splicing — not  fast  enough  for  him. 


HOLYLAND  89 

He  wrenched  the  rope  out  of  my  hand  and  glared  at 
me  like  a  wild  beast,  I  can  tell  you  that." 

Then  up  spake  Kai  Jans,  the  silent,  and  laying  his  thin 
hand  on  his  breast,  "  I  will  lay  my  life  on  his  honesty. 
I  have  known  him  since  he  was  a  child." 

They  were  silent  with  astonishment. 

After  a  time  Kai  Jans  came  up  to  Pete.  "  I  say,"  he 
said  in  a  low,  thick  voice,  "if  you  have  any  game  on, 
play  it  for  all  its  worth,  so  that  they  may  not  suspect 
anything."  Suddenly,  as  he  said  this,  the  thought  crossed 
his  mind  of  why  he  had  left  Hilligenlei  and  gone  out  into 
the  wide  world.  Hot  tears  rose  to  his  eyes.  "This 
hideous  hole  will  make  an  end  of  us  !  "  he  groaned. 

"  Head  up,"  said  Pete;  "don't  be  afraid.  As  sure  as 
God  is  in  Heaven  and  I  keep  strong,  in  spite  of  all  this 
filth,  we  shall  see  Hilligenlei  again.  Come,  lying  and  de- 
ceiving and  eyes  always  open — that's  what  does  it." 

A  time  of  misery  followed.  They  slept,  stowed  away, 
with  fourteen  men  in  the  wretched,  dark  hole  forward. 
When  the  captain  was  off  duty  he  sat  in  his  cabin,  drink- 
ing and  sleeping  and  tinkering  at  dainty  little  models  of 
sailing  ships,  of  which  he  had  constructed  at  least  fifty, 
all  different  and  all  correct  in  every  detail.  Each  of  them 
had  in  its  hold  a  paper  with  particulars  of  speed,  weight, 
and  numbers.  He  played  with  them  endlessly,  drinking 
the  while. 

"  I  will  tell  you  about  the  old  'un,"  said  the  Hamburger. 
"You  must  know  that  when  he  was  young  he  had  a 
lovely  shipbuilding  yard  on  the  Reiherstieg  at  Hamburg. 
When  he  took  to  drinking,  however,  he  let  his  business 
go  to  rack  and  ruin.  He  was  bankrupt,  and  went  to 
sea." 

In  his  watch  he  used  to  sit,  huddled  up,  without 
moving,  on  the  skylight,  one  of  the  models  on  his  knee, 
staring  first  at  the  dainty  little  object  in  his  hand,  and 
then  out  to  sea. 

The  mate  was  oppressed  and  uneasy  among  the 
men.  Now  that  he  had  to  share  their  quarters  he  lost 
the  last  of  his  assurance — hardly  dared  to  say  anything 
to  them.  They  took  no  notice  of  him  at  all. 

The  cook  stirred  the  dirty  semi-raw  food  in  a  big  iron 
pot  held  together  at  the  top  by  pieces  of  twine.  The 
beans  were  hard,  the  salt  fish  smelt  bad,  and  the  biscuits 


9o  HOLYLAND 

began  to  be  alive.  However,  they  took  what  came,  since 
the  cook  had  the  brandy  under  lock  and  key.  Drinkers 
do  not  mind  dirt. 

Eight  days  more,  and  the  tall,  pale  Frenchman  became 
ill.  His  legs  swelled.  He  hobbled  along  the  leeward 
side,  catching  hold  of  the  railing  as  he  gazed  out  to  sea, 
full  of  homesickness.  His  parents  were  respectable 
people,  but  an  early  taste  for  gin  had  ruined  health  and 
character. 

Soon  one  of  the  Belgians  sickened.  He  got  as  yellow 
as  a  quince,  as  he  lay  with  burning  eyes  in  the  dark  corner 
of  the  captain's  room  on  a  bit  of  old  sailcloth,  his  hands 
folded  on  his  breast,  eating  nothing  except,  now  and  then, 
a  bit  of  mouldy  biscuit,  which  the  Frenchman  dipped  in 
brandy  and  forced  between  his  unwilling  teeth. 

The  others  kept  well,  but  were  always  either  drunk 
or  lazy.  Pete  Boje  worked  like  two  men,  and  watched 
like  three.  He  got  as  thin  as  an  underfed  hound,  but 
his  iron  strength  was  unbroken.  Poor  Kai  Jans,  always 
slight  and  fragile,  seemed  to  shrink;  his  chest  sank  and 
his  back  got  bent  as  if  there  were  a  heavy  sack  of  corn 
on  his  young  shoulders ;  he  walked  wearily,  and  his  eyes 
had  a  dry,  unhealthy  glint. 

In  this  miserable  plight  they  drove  south  to  the  burning 
southern  islands,  and  the  smell  aft  became  unendurable. 
Kai  Jans,  Pete,  the  Dane,  the  mate,  and  the  Frenchman 
— the  whole  forecastle  watch — got  matting  out  of  the 
hold  and  made  a  sort  of  hut  on  deck.  There  they  lay, 
and  at  night  looked  up  to  the  calm  splendour  of  the 
tropical  sky,  the  tops  of  the  masts  grazing  the  stars. 

They  saw  that  the  captain  often  went  to  sleep  on  his 
skylight,  the  ship's  model  held  carefully  in  his  hand — a 
most  curious  picture  in  the  starlight — and  went  down 
below  from  time  to  time  to  refill  his  wretched  little  lamp ; 
and  they  saw  the  bottle  going  round  amidships,  and, 
therefore,  they  resolved  that  one  of  them  must  always  be 
on  the  watch.  But  Kai  Jan's  eyes  would  not  keep  open. 

Thus  they  slowly  approached  the  Malay  Archipelago. 
The  wind  was  very  squally,  and  kept  hauling  forward. 
On  the  fourth  night  they  all  fell  asleep,  exhausted  by 
work  and  wretchedness.  Suddenly  a  loud  banging  noise 
awakened  Pete.  Rousing  himself  by  a  violent  effort  of 
will,  he  sprang  up,  and,  running  aft  with  a  loud  cry, 


HOLYLAND  91 

seized  hold  of  the  helm.  A  black  squall  was  driving  hard 
against  the  sails.  The  man  sat,  dead-drunk,  at  the 
rudder.  Pushing  him  aside  with  his  foot,  Pete  exerted 
all  his  strength  to  port  the  helm.  The  others  came  up 
and  leaped  to  the  braces,  calling  to  the  watch.  The 
watch  was  huddled  together  in  a  drunken  sleep.  They 
had  to  pull  down  the  topgallant  sail  alone.  The  ship  re- 
covered itself. 

The  mate  was  desperate :  he  smote  his  forehead  with 
his  hand. 

"  What  am  I  to  do?     What  am  I  to  do?  " 

"Overboard  with  the  brandy,"  said  Pete;  "now,  this 
very  moment.  There's  the  cook  lying  there — he's  got 
the  key." 

"That's  no  good,"  said  the  mate,  shaking  his  head 
despondently.  "  I  did  that  once,  but  the  captain  quite 
lost  his  head,  and  the  cook  spat  in  the  pot."  Sitting 
down  on  the  companion,  his  hands  folded  between  his 
knees,  he  became  lost  in  thought,  and  said  :  "  If  I  get 
home  this  time  I  shall  give  it  up  and  buy  a  public-house 
at  the  wharf." 

"Yes,"  said  Pete,  bitterly,  "if  we  ever  see  a  wharf 
again." 

"  I  know  the  owner,"  said  the  little  mate,  opening  his 
eyes  wider  and  wider.  "  He  has  large  feet,  and  a  face 
like  an  ox.  The  Clara  is  on  the  condemned  list ;  it  will 
have  to  go.  That's  why  it  has  such  a  captain  and  mate." 

Suddenly,  eighteen-year-old  Pete  Boje  was  close  by  his 
side,  and  said  to  him  with  blazing  eyes:  "Mate,  let  us 
speak  frankly,  as  one  man  to  another."  He  struck  him- 
self on  the  breast.  ' '  Will  you  manage  to  get  the  captain 
to  give  me  the  starboard  watch?  " 

"He  won't  do  it,  Hilligenleier — never!  What  would 
the  cook  and  the  Belgian  say?  " 

"  I  am  twenty-two.  I  was  two  months  at  Emden,  until 
the  money  came  to  an  end." 

"No  good,  Hilligenleier — not  a  bit  of  it." 

"  Thy  father  has  a  dockyard  in  Hilligenlei :  I  grew  up 
among  the  shavings.  I  used  to  tear  my  stockings  on  the 
splinters.  Tell  the  old  'un  that.  .  .  .You  know  it's  true, 
Kai  Jans." 

"  Yes,  it  is  so,"  said  Kai,  in  a  loud  voice.  "  I  can  take 
my  oath  on  it,  mate."  The  mate  got  up  and  walked 


92  HOLYLAND 

away.     Pete  Boje's  face  contracted  until  it  was  positively 
ugly. 

"I  will  flatter  him  up  all  I  know,  but  the  day  I  leave 
this  ship  I'll  spit  in  his  ugly  face." 

"  Be  quiet,"  said  Kai,  anguish  in  his  face,  yellow  with 
fever. 

Soon  afterwards  the  captain  himself  appeared  and 
called  for  Pete  Boje.  He  looked  straight  at  him  with  his 
true  honest  eyes,  and  told  him  everything  he  wanted  to 
know.  Whereupon,  calling  his  watch  together,  he  said 
to  them  :  ' '  From  now  on,  do  ye  hear,  Pete  Boje  has  my 
watch." 

Immense  excitement.  Pete  swore  furiously  that  he 
would  not  take  it. 

Kai  Jans  said  in  a  tone  of  contempt :  "  Navigation 
school,  indeed  !  You  can  do  without  that !  " 

Even  the  kindly  little  Dane,  who  had  stood  by  them 
staunchly,  remarked  that  he  liked  Pete ;  but  this  was  out 
of  order,  and  order  must  be  observed.  They  all  lied  right 
and  left :  a  magnificent  display  of  Saxon  cunning.  Gradu- 
ally the  others  calmed  down  and  said,  "Let  him  stand 
there  on  the  poop  and  hold  the  helm  and  watch  himself; 
we'll  have  our  supper." 

So  this  evening  Pete  took  the  first  watch,  leaning  over 
the  compass  and  gazing  with  restless  keenness  at  the 
sails.  Kai  Jans,  transferred  to  the  larboard  watch  along 
with  him,  stood  with  aching  limbs  and  heavy  head  by  the 
helm,  his  arms  twitching  from  hard  work  at  the  pumps. 
The  rest  of  the  watch  got  more  drunk  than  ever.  About 
midnight,  one  of  the  Italians,  a  very  young  good-natured 
fellow,  who  had  taken  to  drink  from  want  of  food  and  a 
kind  of  false  pride,  came  aft  with  a  full  bottle  in  his  hand, 
which  he  offered  to  Pete,  staggering  and  saying  some- 
thing in  his  own  language.  Suddenly  overcome,  Pete 
seized  hold  of  him  and  pressed  him  to  his  breast,  looking 
at  him  with  distraught  eyes,  saying:  "  Je  veux  voir  ma 
m&re,  coquinl"  then  let  him  go.  He  went  for- 
ward cursing.  "  Kai  Jans,  mon  cher,  using  your  hands 
and  legs  is  not  enough ;  you  must  use  your  head  too,  as 
I  do.  Do  you  know  a  Hilligenlei  boy  told  me  once  that 
you  could  tell  stories.  Now  then,  open  your  mouth,  and 
talk  to  them  so  that  they  forget  this  swilling." 
"  Pete,  I  can't— I'm  too  shy." 


HOLYLAND  93 

"  The  wind  is  getting  up,  and  they  won't  watch;  there 
is  four  foot  of  water  in  the  hold,  and  they  won't  pump." 

"  Pete,  I  can't.  I  can  do  it  all  right  in  my  head,  but 
tell  it  to  them — I  can't." 

"  Kai — you  must.  We  want  to  get  to  Hilligenlei,  don't 
we?  Only  get  us  to  Capetown,  and  then  we'll  run 
away.  Kai,  once  we're  at  Capetown  we'll  run  .  .  .  ." 

So  Kai  went  down  the  companion,  dragging  one  foot 
after  the  other,  and  said  cheerfully  :  ' '  Now,  boys — we 
miist  pump  a  bit." 

"Pump!  .   .   .   Come  and  drink  with  us,   man." 

"  Very  well.  .  .   .  but  now  come  to  the  pumps  !  " 

They  began  to  pump,  but  soon  got  tired  of  it.  "  That's 
enough."  "  Lord,  what  hard  work." 

"  Yes,"  said  Kai,  "  my  grandfather  was  better  off  than 
I  am." 

"  What  has  your  grandfather  got  to  do  with  us?  " 

"What's  my  grandfather?  He  had  a  queer  experi- 
ence, I  can  tell  you." 

"Tell  us  about  him,"  said  the  little  Dane;  "tell  us 
about  your  grandfer. " 

"Go  on — we'll  pump  a  bit  the  while." 

"  Well  .  .  .  about  my  grandfather.  For  a  great  many 
years  he  was  a  thresher  with  a  man  called  Ohle  Griesack ; 
and  this  man  .  .  .  every  evening  he  used  to  fill  his  huge 
boots  with  corn,  and  so  bring  home  about  four  pounds 
of  corn  every  evening.  That  was  the  sort  of  creature  he 
was." 

"  Go  on — we'll  pump  a  bit  more." 

' '  The  mad  thing  was  that  he  had  not  a  bad  conscience 
about  it.  If  he  had  the  parson  wouldn't  have  said  any- 
thing to  him.  But  when  Ohle  Griesack  came  home  and 
shook  out  his  boots,  he  used  to  laugh.  Of  course,  that 
would  not  do  for  the  parson,  and  he  went  to  him.  He 
sat  himself  down  with  his  full  weight  in  the  armchair,  and 
rattled  off  some  twenty  or  thirty  texts.  But  Ohle  Grie- 
sack remained  unmoved.  All  that  did  not  matter  to  him,  he 
said  :  he  might  do  anything  that  his  conscience  approved 
of.  He  felt  he  had  a  right  to  take  the  corn,  and  was 
never  happier  or  more  peaceful  than  when  he  sat  down  in 
his  armchair  of  an  evening,  took  off  his  boots,  and  shook 
out  the  corn.  What  the  parson  said  was  so  much  Greek 
to  him.  He  got  quite  jovial,  poured  the  parson  out  a 


94  HOLYLAND 

glass  of  brandy,  and  wished  him  as  good  a  conscience 
as  his  own.  Well — so  the  same  evening  the  parson  went 
to  talk  to  God  about  it." 

"  Let's  pump  a  bit,  now." 

"  Well — first  of  all,  God  thought  of  going  Himself. 
Then  he  sent  one  of  His  lieutenants.  Towards  evening, 
when  Ohle  Griesack  was  slowly  making  his  way  home 
across  the  fields,  feeling  pleased  with  himself  and  with 
his  heavy  boots  on  ...  who  should  he  see  sitting  on 
Ahrens'  hedge  ?  The  angel  Gabriel.  His  heavy  white 
wings  hung  down  to  the  ground,  and  when  he  got  down 
one  wing  stuck  on  a  nail,  so  that  he  had  to  unfasten  it  with 
his  white  hands.  Then  he  went  with  Ohle  Griesack  and 
talked  to  him.  But  he  stood  firm.  With  the  best  in- 
tentions he  could  not  do  it;  if  he  were  to  look  into  every 
hole  and  corner  of  his  inner  nature,  with  a  lantern — like 
the  poor  woman  in  the  Gospel— he  could  not  find  a  single 
dark  or  dirty  spot  for  the  devil  to  turn  in.  He  invited  the 
angel  in,  took  off  his  boots,  and  shook  out  the  corn  in  his 
jovial  way;  then  going  in  stockinged  feet,  he  fetched  the 
brandy  flask,  and,  apologising  for  having  only  one  glass 
in  the  house,  he  drank  with  the  angel  and  was  glad  that 
he  approved  of  the  flavour.  The  angel  went  to 
God,  and  told  Him  how  it  was  ...  all  as  it  should  be ! 
So " 

"  To  it,  again,  boys  !  " 

' '  Well  .  .  .  then  said  God.  '  There  is  no  help  for  it. 
I  must  put  on  my  boots  and  go  and  speak  to  Ohle  Grie- 
sack myself.'  He  got  up,  not  meaning  to  have  a  whole 
day's  work  with  the  business,  but  to  polish  it  off  before 
breakfast,  and  so  he  went  on  the  morning  of  our  Lord — 
in  aller  Herrgottsfriih — and  was  already  sitting  on  a 
sack  of  wheat  when  Ohle  Griesack  and  my  grandfather 
came  in  to  the  threshing  floor.  Ohle  Griesack  was  rather 
frightened  when  he  saw  the  Lord  God  sitting  there  on 
the  sack  of  wheat,  without  any  state,  but  with  immemorial 
eyes  :  eyes  that  were  not  made  yesterday.  He  spoke  to 
Ohle  Griesack  in  friendly  fashion ;  but  to  no  purpose ; 
none  at  all.  Ohle  was  a  stout  little  person,  with  high 
round  shoulders.  He  drew  up  his  shoulders  a  shade 
higher,  so  that  he  really  looked  as  if  he  had  three  heads, 
and  said  :  If  God  would  only  be  so  good  as  to  give  him 
a  bad  conscience,  he  would  be  very  much  obliged  :  he 


HOLYLAND  95 

could  not  manage  it  for  himself,  though  he  had  taken  a 
great  deal  of  trouble  over  it. 

' '  God  went  away  without  more  ado ;  but,  of  course,  he 
did  not  care  about  being  seen  up  on  high,  and  so  he 
spent  the  whole  day  hanging  about  the  harbours  in  Lon- 
don and  Hamburg.  Evening  came,  however,  and  he  had 
to  go  home.  You  can  imagine  they  made  faces  there 
behind  his  back,  glad  that  the  Chief  had  failed  for  once. 
So  they  sat  down  to  supper  and  enjoyed  it  very  much. 
Then  God,  who  always  sits  at  the  head  of  the  table,  lifted 
up  his  grey  head,  and  commanded  Death,  who  always 
stands  at  the  door,  to  go  and  bring  Ohle  Griesack  that 
night  to  the  end  of  his  journey,  and  then  go  to  the  old 
surgeon  Ruhmann  in  Hilligenlei,  and  tell  him  to  be  ready 
to  take  off  Ohle's  cap  in  the  morning.  He  wanted  to 
know  what  was  wrong  with  the  man,  he  did." 

"  To  it  again,  boys ;  pump  away  !  " 

"Well  .  .  .  so  it  happened.  My  grandfather  watched 
by  the  side  of  the  man  till  he  died.  Very  early,  next  morn- 
ing, when  my  grandfather  had  just  lit  Ohle's  short  pipe, 
which  he  had  taken  in  compensation  for  his  watching,  in 
came  first  old  Ruhmann  and  then  God,  with  two  of  His 
angels.  Old  Ruhmann  cut  away,  and  the  angels  bent  over 
Ohle.  God  sat  comfortably  in  Ohle's  armchair,  looking 
round  the  room,  well  pleased  to  see  it  so  clean.  Then  old 
Ruhmann  shook  his  head  and  said  he  could  not  find  any- 
thing. 

"  '  No,  nor  we  either,'  said  the  two  angels.  '  He  is 
just  like  everybody  else.' 

"  Then  God  gave  a  deep  sigh  and  said  '  What  a  lot  of 
trouble  about  a  Holstein  working  man  !  '  Then  he  got  up, 
and  taking  the  brain  in  the  hollow  of  his  hand,  he 
examined  it  with  his  clear,  shining  eyes.  Then,  after 
looking  at  it  for  a  short  time,  he  said  :  '  Yes,  look  here. 
Do  you  see  this  little  twist  .  .  .  there  .  .  .  and  here, 
again — it  turns  aside  just  the  least  bit.  Do  you  remember 
that  time  when  we  examined  the  great  poet's  brain?  The 
twist  was  just  the  same,  only  it  went  the  opposite  way  : 
one  a  thief,  the  other  a  poet !  What  an  endless  trouble 
and  fuss  these  men  do  make.  They  trouble  and  fuss  and 
judge — they're  always  judging.  It's  simply  incredible  how 
they  always  know  best,  and  always  find  fault  with  every- 
thing. And  yet,  only  two  days  ago,  the  Saviour  made 


96  HOLYLAND 

my  meaning  clear  enough  to  them  :  '  "  Judge  not,  but  see 
that  your  land  is  holy"  .  .  .  Do  not  forget,'  he  said, 
'  that  Ohle  dines  with  us  this  evening ;  his  clean  room 
pleased  me.'  ' 

Kai  Jan  told  stories  all  the  time  they  sailed  past 
Borneo  towards  the  Sunda  Strait.  He  sat  on  a  spar, 
and,  taking  his  hands  from  his  knees,  which  had  become 
as  sharp  and  hard  as  flints,  he  spread  out  his  fingers  as  if 
holding  a  golden  ball  in  them  to  prevent  it  from  rolling 
away.  His  big  nose  had  got  sharp  and  pinched,  and 
under  his  thoughtful  forehead  his  eyes  shone  like  a 
fire  beneath  a  dark  grate.  The  sailors  said  to  one 
another  in  astonishment:  "What  has  happened  to  him? 
He  was  the  quietest  of  us  all,  and  now  he  tells  such 
stories." 

He  began  to  rejoice  in  his  weird  gift,  and  in  a  voice 
hollow  with  hunger  and  exhaustion,  he  told  them  all  sorts 
of  stories,  mostly  of  the  sea.  The  cook  and  the  mate 
were  laying  evil  plans,  and  the  crew  was  in  subjection  to 
them.  The  captain  was  very  ill.  But  then,  lo !  the 
storm  clouds  came  .  .  .  crossing  the  mead  of  heaven  .  .  . 
like  great  black  swine,  getting  bigger  and  bigger,  and 
darker,  and  covering  sky  and  sea  .  .  .  and  then — 
{suddenly — there  came  down  angels  from  heaven  and 
stood  there  in  crowds.  And  from  the  stern  God's  clear 
voice  rang  out — a  hard,  hard  judgment.  There  was 
nothing  on  earth  or  in  heaven  that  did  not  present  itself 
in  glowing  pictures  to  his  sick,  over-strained  mind.  The 
pale,  sickly  Frenchman  lifted  up  his  thin  arms  and  said  : 
"  O  Hilligenleier  tu  es  truly  un  ban  Catholique;  car  les 
Saints — the  holy — run  among  the  people. ' '  The  cook 
only  stared  at  the  brandy-bottle  in  his  hand.  Pete  stood 
at  the  poop  gazing  at  the  compass  and  the  sails.  The 
captain,  by  his  side,  stared  gloomily  across  the  sea. 

"  I,  Pete  Boje,  from  Hilligenlei,  am  to  drown — and 
why?  To  give  that  rich  blackguard  with  the  big  feet  his 
money?  No,  thank  you.  Although  my  eyes  are  burnt 
out  of  my  head  by  thirst  and  fever  and  weariness,  I  am 
going  to  see  Hilligenlei  again.  Hush  .  .  .  mother  raises 
her  head  .  .  .  she  has  stopped  working  the  machine  .  .  . 
hush  .  .  .  children  .  .  .  what  a  quick  step  that  is  ... 
Anna  Heinke  ...  do  you  hear?  Our  door.  Yes  ;  oh,  oh, 
Pete  ! — Pete,  my  dear  boy  ! 


HOLYLAND  97 

"  Captain,  you  have  never  had  a  mate  who  had  to  ask 
so  many  questions  !  " 

"Ask  away;  you're  a  man  with  the  desire  and  the 
power  to  learn — that's  what  matters." 

"  Show  me  another  model,  captain." 

"  I'll  bring  up  a  couple." 

"  The  sails,  captain?  " 

' '  They  are  right. ' ' 

"Thank  you,  captain." 

"  Look  here  :  this  model.   ..." 

They  got  safely  to  the  Indian  Ocean,  and  through  the 
monsoon,  and  held  their  course.  Their  existence  was 
wretched  enough.  The  bacon  was  putrid,  the  biscuit  and 
the  meal  alive,  the  water  bad,  their  only  shirt  a  torn  one. 
The  tongue  clave  to  the  roof  of  the  mouth,  their  eyes  were 
burning.  They  jumped  and  sang,  always  on  the  watch, 
lying  through  thick  and  thin. 

"  Laugh,  Kai  .  .  .  don't  look  so  sour  .  .  .  tell  the 
blackguards  a  story  .  .  .  what's  the  matter,  man  ?  Have 
you  been  drinking — you?  For  shame  !  " 

"Pete  I  can't  drink  the  water."  He  looked  at  him 
with  piteous  eyes.  "  I  shan't  get  drunk,  you  needn't  be 
afraid — never.  You  needn't  look  at  me  like  that.  I  say, 
the  Dutchman  is  furious  because  you  snatched  the  bucket 
away  from  him.  He  is  quite  drunk,  and  raging  against 
you.  Speak  pleasantly  to  him,  somehow." 

' '  I  will  go  afterwards  and  embrace  him  !  Go  and  tell 
them  a  story." 

Kai  Jans  told  them  a  story.  His  tales  grew  unnatural 
and  violent.  His  fevered  imagination  drove  his  fantasies 
rushing  like  wild  beasts  into  their  muddled  brains.  He 
told  them  about  the  women's  ship.  "A  crew  of  twenty 
women  :  just  think  :  all  young,  and  all  mad  with  love  : 
the  captain  the  most  beautiful  of  all.  When  their  desires 
grew  uncontrollable,  that  is,  about  once  a  month,  they 
used  to  make  up  to  some  ship  in  the  night,  on  the  open 
sea.  Ships  side  by  side  .  .  .  they  jumped  on  deck  .  .  . 
just  imagine,  boys,  if  that  were  to  happen  to  us  !  "  They 
all  discussed  it  till  they  roared  with  excitement,  and  so  to 
the  pumps ;  and  he  shouted  to  them  in  time  to  the  groan- 
ing of  the  pump,  so  that  the  wild  pictures  stood  living 
before  their  eyes.  For  him,  indeed,  they  were  mere 
stupid,  empty  words ;  he  was  still  pure. 


98  HOLYLAND 

It  was  fortunate  that  they  escaped  storms,  and  that 
the  nights  were  clear  and  starlit,  for  the  mate  could  not 
have  held  out. 

"Captain,  here  is  a  comfortable  chair.  My  father 
always  used  to  say  we  ought  to  build  the  sort  of  clipper 
they  make  in  Glasgow — steel,  with  sharp  bows  and 
rounded  prow :  he  said  we  were  far  behind  them. 
America  and  England,  he  used  to  say." 

"  I  built  three  of  that  sort,"  said  the  captain.  "  I  was 
the  first  in  Germany  to  do  it.  I'll  show  you  the  model." 
He  got  up  stiffly,  and  went  down  the  companion  with 
unsteady  step,  returning  with  the  model  carefully  under 
his  arm.  Never  by  any  chance  did  his  trembling  hands 
break  one,  delicately  constructed  though  they  were. 

"  My  father  sent  me  to  Glasgow,  and  across  the  sea. 
We  two,  he  said,  were  to  teach  Germany  to  build  sailing 
vessels.  As  an  apprentice,  I  began  in  the  rivet  yard,  and 
then  rose  to  drawing.  I  was  quick  and  ambitious,  and 
a  hard  worker.  Afterwards,  I  built  ships  myself,  seven- 
teen of  them.  Then  I  didn't  care  about  it.  I  went  to 
sea,  and  now  I  am  on  the  Clara."  He  looked  round  for 
something. 

"The  bottle  is  beneath  your  chair,  captain." 

' '  My  brother,  the  youngest,  had  a  sandalwood  cradle ; 
but  when  I  gave  up  the  yard  he  lost  spirit  too,  and  now 
he  is  a  firema/i  on  an  English  steamer.  Many  Germans 
stoke  English  fires.  Such  heat,  and  dirt,  and  darkness — 
poor,  ruined  Germans." 

"  Drink,  captain,  to  get  rid  of  such  memories." 

"  The  bottle  is  a  curse,  mate,  but  I  can't  do  without  it. 
We  Germans  would  have  gone  far  if  it  were  not  for  this 
accursed  drinking."  He  took  a  big  draught,  and,  becom- 
ing lively  again,  explained  the  model.  When  his  voice 
became  drowsy  Pete  pushed  the  bottle  towards  him  and 
he  drank. 

At  last  they  came  to  Capetown.  The  two  sick  men  had 
to  be  put  ashore.  Pete  and  the  young  Italian  rowed  them. 
The  captain  came,  too,  to  buy  more  drink.  Pete  re- 
mained to  watch  the  boat.  He  went  up  to  two  or  three 
sailors  who  were  walking  about  the  quay,  but  they  did 
not  tell  him  what  he  wanted;  so  he  went  on,  looking 
about  him.  Then  a  very  young  sailor  came  along  in 
wide  canvas  trousers  and  shirt,  a  fresh-faced,  fair- 


HOLYLAND  99 

haired  little  fellow,  with  a  quick  step  and  lively  eyes. 
They  recognised  countrymen  in  one  another. 

"  I'm  on  a  three-master  from  Hamburg — the  Gude  Wife 
there.  Cargo  from  Hamburg  here.  To-morrow  we're 
going  to  the  South  Sea,  and  we  want  two  hands." 

"  Indeed,"  said  Pete,  giving  a  longing  look  at  the  ship 
lying  proudly  in  the  roadstead. 

"  What's  your  name?  " 

"  I'm  Hans  Jessen,  from  Brunsbiittel. " 

"You  don't  mean  it!  Not  the  chemist's  son?  I  am 
Pete  Boje  from  Hilligenlei;  and  there's  another  fellow 
from  there — Kai  Jans.  Is  your  ship  a  good  one?  " 

"  Splendid  !  We  all  come  from  Blankenese  and  Gliick- 
stadt  and  that  part." 

The  Hilligenleier  stared  in  front  of  him. 

"I  expect,"  said  Hans  Jessen,  "that  when  the  mate 
hears  you  came  from  Hilligenlei  he  will  manage  to  have 
you  taken  on." 

"Look,"  said  Pete,  pointing  to  the  Clara.  "There 
we  are.  Tell  your  mate  two  fellows  from  Hilligenlei  are 
simply  perishing  there.  He  can  fetch  us  away  this  even- 
ing about  ten  if  he  will." 

Hans  promised  and  went  off. 

The  captain  came  staggering  along,  his  eyes  like  glass  ; 
behind  him  a  case  of  bottles.  They  rowed  back  to  the 
ship.  Pete  took  the  case  from  the  Italian,  and  carried  it 
into  the  captain's  room. 

"  Good  stuff,  captain?  " 

With  his  hoarse,  embarrassed  laugh  the  captain  struck 
the  bottle  with  a  trembling  hand  against  the  edge  of  the 
desk  so  as  to  smash  the  neck,  and  filling  up  the  glass 
offered  it  to  him. 

"No  harm  in  that,"  said  Pete,  handing  back  the  glass 
and  looking  at  him  with  speaking  eyes.  "  Drink,  drink  ! 
Have  a  cosy  evening,  captain.  We  are  lying  here  very 
snugly,  and  I'll  answer  for  everything." 

The  larboard  watch  went  below ;  the  starboard  sat  for- 
ward drinking.  He  went  up  and  down  the  poop.  Kai 
Jans,  who  wanted  to  keep  near  him,  sat  down  on  the 
companion  and  went  to  sleep.  He  had  not  said  a  word 
to  him. 

After  an  hour,  it  being  now  dark,  he  went  down  into 
the  captain's  room  and  found  him  asleep.  Providing 

H  2 


ioo  HOLYLAND 

himself  with  the  keys  he  took  his  papers  and  Kai's,  and 
taking-  twenty  of  the  best  models  he  put  them  in  a  sack 
in  the  corner.  Then  he  went  forward  with  five  bottles 
of  the  rum,  and,  laughing  shyly,  with  his  hand  to  his 
ear,  he  said,  "  Sh-sh  .  .  .  here  are  five  bottles  for 
you  of  the  very,  very  best  ...  sh  ...  So  that 
the  old  'un  doesn't  notice." 

They  drank  in  silence  and  were  soon  asleep.  Kai  Jans 
slept  also. 

Soon  afterwards  he  heard  the  muffled  sound  of  oars 
and  a  cautious  call.  Pushing  over  the  sack,  he 
went  to  Kai  Jans  and  touched  him  on  the  shoulder.  He 
stood  up  without  a  word  as  if  he  had  been  expecting  the 
summons,  and  followed  with  half-closed  eyes ;  following 
the  teacher's  clear-eyed  son,  as  he  did  in  all  practical 
matters. 

Half  an  hour  later  they  clambered  on  board  the  Gude 
Wife. 

"  Look,"  said  Hans  Jessen,  in  his  cheery  voice,  "  here 
is  the  mate." 

The  two  Hilligenlei  boys  looked  up  and  saw  a  tall 
man  approach,  pushing  aside  a  boy  who  was  in  his  way. 
They  recognised  him  in  the  starlight. 

"  Good  Heavens,"  said  Kai,  in  a  low  voice,  "  Pe  Ontjes 
Lau!  " 

He  looked  at  them  with  a  calm,  distant  manner,  and 
thinking,  "  What  starved,  ragged  objects  !  "  asked  them 
coldly  for  their  papers. 

They  felt  in  their  pockets  and  showed  them  to  him. 

' '  You  are  in  my  watch. ' ' 

When  they  were  going  below  Kai  saw  for  the  first 
time  that  Pete  was  carrying  a  sack^  and  heard  a  jingling 
noise  inside  it. 

"What  have  you  got  there?"  he  asked,  suppressed 
anguish  in  his  tone.  He  knew  already.  He  sat  down 
on  the  ladder,  and,  resting  his  head  in  his  hands,  said  in 
despairing  accents,  "  We  have  deserted  the  Dane,  who 
was  always  so  faithful  .  .  .  and  now,  we  are 
thieves  .  .  .  and.  .  oh,  how  he  looked  at  me  . 
Ugh!  How  dirty  I  am." 

He  covered  his  eyes  with  his  hands. 

"  You'll  always  be  a  fool,"  said  Pete,  "  and  no  use  at 
all."  He  entered  the  cabin  with  a  distorted  face. 


CHAPTER    X 

THE  Gude  Wife. 

Let  there  be  no  mistake;  the  three-masted  full-rigged 
Gude  Wife,  built  on  the  model  of  Jan  Marbst's  pinnace. 

Who  has  seen  her?  Not  in  harbour,  her  naked  rigging 
standing  stiff  and  dry  as  a  withered  pine-tree,  the  tem- 
porary stay  collars  grinding  and  whirring,  the  men  work- 
ing noisily  in  the  hold.  No,  not  then.  But  when  she 
charges,  chased  by  the  south-easterly  gale,  through  the 
raging  seas,  sixty-three  degrees  south  of  Cape  Horn,  and 
takes  one  grey  wave  after  another  as  she  lies  on  one 
side  with  storm  sail  set,  sheets  and  railing  glistening  with 
ice  !  Or  when  she  holds  her  graceful  course  over  the 
endless  expanse  of  dazzling  sunlit  water  in  the  southern 
seas,  all  her  light  grey  sail  spread  like  five-and-twenty 
light  grey  wings,  the  pride  and  glory  of  her  distant 
native  town?  Or  when  she  labours,  buffeted  by  the 
north-western  gale  of  a  dreary  November  morning, 
through  the  grey  waste  of  waters  to  the  opening  of  the 
Elbe,  or  past  the  Texel  breakers,  dashing  white  and 
terrible  on  either  side,  on,  brave  and  grand,  however  the 
weather  bends  her. 

Can  anything  be  said  against  the  Gude  Wife  ?  Is  there 
a  single  piece  of  mouldy  rope  on  board  her  to  annoy  the 
sailor  to-day,  and  throw  him  down  dead  upon  the  deck  to- 
morrow ?  Is  there  a  single  piece  of  superfluous  ornamen- 
tation which  gives  him  useless  trouble  ? 

Think  of  the  captain  ! 

The  captain  is  Jan  Deeken  of  Blankenese.  True,  his 
fine  body  is  set  on  a  pair  of  short  bow-legs.  And  nobody 
can  deny  the  fact  that  he  goes  up  and  down,  up  and  down 
the  deck  with  short  steps,  head  sunk  on  his  breast,  till  he 
suddenly  looks  up  to  cast  a  rapid  glance  on  deck,  and 
out  to  sea,  and  then,  dropping  his  head  again,  spits  softly. 


102  HOLYLAND 

True  it  is,  too,  that  he  is  not  precisely  soft-hearted.  But 
what  of  all  that  ?  Was  he  not  just  ?  did  he  not  provide 
at  the  right  time  for  Christmas  ?  and  did  he  not  give  the 
cook  a  splendid  store  of  provisions  ?  and — what  is  most 
important  of  all — did  he  understand  his  profession  or  no  ? 

There  was  something  almost  uncanny  about  it.  It 
seemed  impossible  not  to  think  that  there  was  some  connec- 
tion between  his  short-legged  body  and  the  elements.  The 
whole  sky  was  clear  blue,  not  a  cloud  anywhere  on  the  hori- 
zon, and  a  steady  breeze  blowing.  Suddenly  Captain 
Deeken  stands  still ;  he  stops  spitting.  All  the  sailors  stop 
their  work  to  stand  and  look  at  him.  He  lifts  his  head  and 
snuffs  the  air.  Then,  turning,  goes  straight  down  into 
his  cabin  and  comes  back  wearing,  instead  of  his  blue 
cloth  cap,  an  old  woollen  cap  of  English  make,  with  a 
tassel  on  top,  pulled  down  to  his  ears. 

"  So,"  say  they  all,  "  he's  mistaken  this  time,"  so  they 
all  say.  "  He's  mistaken — the  old  'un  !  The  Lord  be 
praised  !  " 

But  he  was  never  mistaken.  Half  an  hour  later  the 
first  order  was  given. 

Could  anything  be  said  against  Jan  Deeken?  Not 
possibly.  The  laziest  sailor — if  a  lazy  sailor  were  con- 
ceivable on  board  the  Gude  Wife — had  nothing  but  praise 
for  him. 

Then  think  of  the  mate  ! 

He  was  proud — no  doubt  about  that.  No  one  had  ever 
heard  him  make  a  joke :  it  was  only  seldom  that  he  was 
even  friendly.  It  was  not  till  much  later  that  he  used  to 
joke,  secretly  and  not  often,  with  Anna  Boje  and  her 
children.  But  he  never  bullied  or  swore  at  his  men — 
always  calm,  always  polite.  And  he  knew  his  business. 

Have  you  seen  mate  Lau?  On  Sunday  mornings 
as  he  went  about  the  deck  in  fine  weather,  in 
the  carpet  slippers  that  his  mother  had  embroidered 
for  him,  with  beautiful  coloured  beads  ?  Or  that 
time  when  the  boy  fell  off  the  beak  into  the  canal ;  when 
he  was  on  the  railing  in  an  instant,  throwing  out  the 
life-belt,  while  the  word  of  command  rang  out  clear :  "  The 
lee  boat  out!  "  Or  when  he  took  a  hand  with  the  rest; 
that  time  when  they  were  worn  out  by  six  days  of  storm 
south  of  Cape  Horn,  and  five  men  could  not  bring  down 
the  halliard,  the  wind  was  so  fierce :  then  he  suddenly  took 


HOLYLAND  103 

hold  and  they  found  themselves  all  five  sitting  on  deck  ! 
Or  did  you  see  him  turn  the  old  seaman  off  the  poop? 
The  man  had  been  pilot  on  a  Norwegian  barque  in  his 
young  days,  with  his  certificate  from  Trondhjem,  and  all 
the  rest  of  it,  until  the  brandy  fiend  robbed  him  of  his 
certificate,  and  turned  him  off  the  poop  back  to  the  fore- 
castle. Ordinarily  a  quiet  simple  fellow,  once  on  land 
he  would  drink  until  his  heart  grew  sick  within  him,  and 
then  he  would  climb  up  on  to  the  poop,  his  heart  full  of  the 
good  old  days.  But  when  he  looked  up,  there  was  mate 
Lau,  who  looked  at  him  and  said  a  few  words,  quite  quietly ; 
and  he  went  grumbling  forward  again.  Or  if  you  had  seen 
him  as  he  sat  in  his  white  linen  suit,  with  a  bottle  of 
soda  water  in  front  of  him,  outside  the  little  tavern  at 
Apia  !  Up  there  came  a  troop  of  pretty  brown  girls,  their 
bodies  naked,  save  for  a  wreath  of  flowers  round  the 
waist,  and  smiled  at  him.  He  looked  at  them  for  a 
moment,  and  for  a  moment  his  eyes  were  full  of  fire,  that 
is  true ;  only  a  moment,  and  then  it  was  gone — absolutely 
gone.  He  looked  at  them  calm  and  unmoved.  Certain 
it  is  that  anyone  who  knew  mate  Lau  of  the  Gude  Wife 
knew  a  strong  and  upright  man. 

Then  the  cook  1 

The  cook  was  sublime.  Klaus  Gudewill  was  capable, 
clean,  smart;  and  no  captain's  cook,  either!  He  was 
glad  to  set  a  good  meal  before  the  aft  cabin,  but  for  the 
fo'c'sle  it  was  a  labour  of  love.  When  it  was  possible,  as 
it  always  was,  he  stole  for  the  fo'c'sle.  And  it  was  some- 
thing worth  while  to  be  the  cook's  mate  !  Last  and  not 
least  he  possessed  the  quality  of  a  true  ship's  cook  :  he 
told  stories  well,  and  could  sing.  His  birthday  came 
when  they  were  in  the  Apia  roadstead.  The  captain  had 
to  stand  him  grog  for  the  occasion,  and  then,  indeed, 
what  yarns,  what  songs  !  They  lay  on  the  deck  and  on 
the  spars  listening  to  him.  Last  of  all  came  the  "  Cook's 
Song,"  a  long  one,  with  a  verse  for  every  day  of  the 
week.  He  sang  right  to  the  end,  and  was  so  inspired 
that  he  thought  of  singing  the  captain  a  serenade ;  but  he 
declined,  spitting  as  usual. 

Then  the  crew  ! 

The  crew?  An  unnecessary  question,  that.  A  good 
ship  and  a  good  captain  can  always  get  good  men  if  they 
want  then.  Jan  Deeken  wanted  them,  and  got  them. 


io4    '  HOLYLAND 

Captain  Deeken  did  not  trouble  about  the  starved 
scarecrows  that  had  come  on  board  in  the  Capetown  road- 
stead. The  mate  was  responsible  for  them.  And  he  did 
not  trouble  about  them  either.  Far  from  it.  He  looked 
away  as  if  he  had  never  seen  them,  as  if  he  had  never 
shown  them  how  to  bite  off  an  eel's  head.  He  did  not 
know  them.  Pete  Boje  said  "  He  is  puffed  up  with 
pride."  From  time  to  time  Kai  Jans  would  try  to  catch 
his  eye,  fixing-  an  imploring-  gaze  upon  him ;  but  without 
success.  On  the  fifth  day  of  their  being-  on  board  he 
found  two  beautiful  clean  shirts  on  top  of  the  little  trunk 
that  had  been  assigned  to  him.  They  were  huge,  and  the 
name  had  been  cut  out.  Again  he  tried  to  meet  his  eye, 
again  in  vain.  So  he  went  silently  about  his  work,  with 
quivering  lips. 

The  crew  regarded  them  coldly.  They  had  almost  all 
been  six  to  ten  years  on  the  Gude  Wife,  and  formed  a  kind 
of  set  which  had  no  need  whatever  of  two  ragged  starve- 
lings— they  must  look  out  for  themselves,  and  see  ^o  their 
behaviour.  No  one  can  become  a  member  of  a  family  in  a 
day.  Even  the  boys  and  the  three  inferior  sailors  stood, 
with  the  others,  aloof  from  them. 

Our  two  heroes  of  the  Clara  found  themselves  very 
small  and  very  unimportant  all  at  once.  They  worked 
zealously,  were  modest  and  friendly  when  off  duty,  lied 
hard  about  the  company  they  had  left,  marvelling  at  what 
seemed  to  them  such  a  number  of  wise  and  upright  men, 
and  awaited  the  progress  of  events.  So  things  went  on 
for  thirty-five  days,  till  the  great  storm  by  Cape  Horn  gave 
them  their  position  among  the  others. 

In  spite  of  a  heavy,  wet  north-wester;  they  had  held  on 
successfully  to  63°,  and  had  come  far  enough  west  to 
pursue  a  northerly  course.  Suddenly  the  wind  veered 
round  to  the  south-west  and  raged  for  three  days  with 
icy  squalls.  Towards  evening  on  the  third  day,  when 
the  deck  began  to  be  frozen  over,  the  captain  produced 
his  woollen  cap  with  the  big  tassel.  Darkness  came  on, 
and  the  steady  icy  wind  blew  hard.  About  nine  o'clock, 
when  it  was  pitch  dark,  the  stir  of  wind  and  water  grew. 
The  air  was  filled  with  an  ominous  rushing  that  roared 
and  whistled  in  the  masts  and  rigging,  whistling  shrill 
and  high.  Pete  Boje  happened  to  be  at  the  wheel,  the 
captain  stumping,  unwearied,  up  and  down,  up  and  down. 


HOLYLAND  105 

Then  mate  Lau  took  the  wheel  and  said,  "  Fetch  the 
rudder  tackle." 

Pete  ran  and  soon  came  up  the  ladder,  the  tacKle  in 
his  hand.  At  that  moment  a  heavy  sea  came  up  suddenly 
from  aft,  threw  the  Gude  Wife  forward,  and  knocked 
the  old  captain's  wretched  legs  from  under  him,  so  that 
he  seemed  in  danger  of  a  bad  fall.  Lau  let  the  wheel 
go  and  seized  the  captain.  In  the  twinkling-  of  an  eye 
Pete  was  in  his  place,  seized  the  wildly  whirling  wheel, 
brought  it  to  a  standstill,  drove  it  back.  The  pilot  handed 
over  the  groaning  captain  to  the  cook's  care,  and  crying 
to  Pete,  "  Well  handled  !  "  gave  the  rudder  to  the  boat- 
swain, signed  to  Pete  to  go  forward,  and,  going  up  the 
companion,  ordered  both  watches  on  deck  and  all  three 
upper  topsails  made  fast. 

The  men  stumbled  out  of  their  cabin  in  their  heavy 
oilskins  and  brailed  up  successfully.  The  storm  shrieked 
wildly  round  the  ship.  The  Gude  Wife  rolled  heavily. 
Huge  seas  dashed  over  her,  filling  the  main  deck  with 
foaming  water.  Lightning  darted  fearfully  across  the 
dark  sky. 

The  larboard  watch,  ten  men  strong,  went  up  to  the 
fore  topsail ;  the  starboard,  eleven  men  strong,  to  the  main 
topsail.  It  was  pitch-dark — so  dark  that  one  could  not 
see  one's  own  hand,  and  a  sharp  hail  cut  against  their 
faces.  Nevertheless,  they  got  aloft,  and,  buffeted  by  the 
wind,  caught  hold  of  the  stiff  new  canvas  with  fingers 
bent  and  frozen  with  the  cold.  Kai  Jans  was  at  the  arm, 
next  him  the  man  from  Dantzig,  and  then  clever  little 
Heine  Marquard.  Everything  went  well,  although  the 
Gude  Wife  swerved  at  least  thirty-five  degrees  from  side 
to  side,  and  they  could  see  nothing  but  the  lightness  of  the 
sails.  All  went  well.  The  sail  was  on  the  yard.  Kai 
bent  down  to  hand  on  the  line  to  the  Dantzig  man.  Trying 
to  catch  hold,  the  Dantzig  man,  a  tall  fellow,  bent  over 
the  yard.  Just  at  that  moment  the  Gude  Wife  gave  a 
sudden  lurch  forward.  A  frightful  cry  rent  the  dark  air. 

Kai  Jans  saw  nothing,  but  feeling  a  burning  pain  run 
through  the  hand  holding  the  line,  gives  a  loud,  wild 
groan;  looking  to  one  side  into  the  darkness,  sees  nothing 
but  emptiness  there,  lays  his  hand  again  upon  the  sail 
to  feel  once  more  the  awful  pain,  lets  the  line  go,  and 
climbs  down  after  the  others  in  the  hideous  darkness  and 


106  HOLYLAND 

the  shrieking,  roaring  noise,  whimpering  in  speechless 
pain. 

The  starboard  watch  was  there  already — a  dark  spot 
forward.  Then  up  came  the  mate,  crying  aloud  : 

"  What  was  that  cry  up  there?  " 

They  shook  their  heads.  One  said,  "  Somebody  gave 
a  shriek." 

' '  Twice  they  shrieked. ' ' 

Then  said  the  Norwegian,  Torril  Torrilsen,  in  his  calm 
voice,  "  I  think  that's  one  of  them — one  of  the  larboard 
watch,  mate." 

Pe  Ontjes  Lau  stretched  out  his  head  towards  the  lar- 
board watch,  which  was  climbing  out  of  the  sheets,  and 
cried  aloud,  "  Kai  Jans,  my  boy." 

"  He  isn't  here  yet,"  said  Pete. 

Once  again  he  cried  aloud,  "Kai  Jans,  my  boy,  art 
there?  " 

At  last  he  came,  last  of  all,  stumbling,  sobbing,  on  to 
the  deck.  Seeing  before  him  in  the  darkness  the  great 
Pe  Ontjes  Lau,  he  ran  to  him  with  uncertain  steps,  and, 
holding  up  his  bloody  hand,  cried  out,  "  O  Pe  Ontjes, 
dear  Pe  Ontjes,  my  hand  is  all  torn  to  pieces.  I'm  a 
cripple,"  and  he  held  out  his  hand  as  much  as  to  say, 
"There  it  is  for  you."  "The  Dantzig  man  flew  from 
the  yard,  and  tore  it  with  the  line." 

Pe  Ontjes  Lau  had  taken  hold  of  him  by  the  shoulder. 
"  Be  quiet,  my  boy,"  he  said.  "Pete,  take  him  aft  to 
my  cabin." 

The  others,  having  scattered  over  the  deck,  now  came 
back. 

' '  He  is  nowhere  on  deck. ' ' 

"  Boys,"  said  the  mate,  "  You  must  see  that  we  can't 
possibly  turn.  We're  going  ten  miles  an  hour  in  front 
of  this  storm." 

Then  Torril  Torrilsen,  the  Norwegian,  lifted  up  his  two 

hands  and  prayed  aloud,  "  Our  Father "  praying 

quickly,  to  bring  rest  to  the  struggling  soul. 

It  was  about  midnight. 

In  the  morning,  about  five  o'clock,  as  they  lay  with 
both  lower  topsails  reversed,  the  wind  got  up  more  and 
more.  By  six  the  main  deck  was  covered  with  a  wild, 
white  sea,  foaming  and  roaring,  and  mountains  of  water, 
white  as  snow  against  the  darkness,  flew  over  the  fore 


HOLYLAND  107 

deck.  All  hands  stood  on  the  poop.  About  seven,  when 
the  morning  grey  began  to  appear,  wind  and  water  came 
with  such  force  against  the  ship  that  she  was  turned  on 
one  side,  and  could  not  right  herself.  They  stood  wait- 
ing— twenty  above  and  the  two  wounded  below. 

"  It's  coming." 

"  No,  it's  not  coming." 

Then  out  cried  the  mate,  "  Topsail  sheets  up  !  Who 
volunteers?  " 

Torril  Torrilsen  and  the  carpenter  tried  to  hold  Pete 
back  by  the  arms. 

Dierk  Peters  cried  out,  "  Let  me.  There  is  no  one  de- 
pendent on  me." 

"  He  is  too  young." 

The  mate  tried  to  say,  "  I  will  go  myself." 

But  Pete  Boje  from  the  Friestadt  dyke  was  already 
down  the  companion,  up  the  railing.  Over  came  a  great 
sea,  but  he  ducked,  just  right,  with  his  arms  fast  round 
the  post;  and  then,  how  he  sprang  up!  like  a  fox  that 
has  lurked  a  long  time  behind  the  wall  when  he  sees  the 
hare  coming  out  of  the  wheatfield  in  the  morning  grey. 
Now  he  is  by  the  forecastle.  Now  he  has  let  go  of  the 
railing.  Now — he  fell  heavily  against  the  cabin,  leaned 
against  it,  and  disappeared. 

The  next  moment  the  huge  light-grey  sail  flew  out; 
whew  !  how  it  rises. 

Slowly  the  Gude  Wife  recovered. 

"Where  is  Pete  Boje?  " 

"  He  won't  come  back." 

"The  chain  hit  him." 

"  He's  too  young." 

The  mate  looked  quickly  at  Torril  Torrilsen.  "You 
are  in  command  on  the  Gude  Wife,"  and  ran  down  the 
companion.  It  was  wonderful  to  see  the  roaring  water 
clothe  the  big  man  as  he  went.  Then  Pete  Boje  appeared 
up  aloft,  jumping  on  to  the  rail.  Half  way  they  met,  and 
turned  back  to  the  others. 

Seven  days  the  storm  lasted.  Seven  days  they  toiled 
without  taking  off  their  clothes,  mourning  for  the  man 
from  Dantzig.  No  one  uttered  a  jest. 

The  eighth  day  was  bright  and  sunny.  A  fresh  south- 
east wind  blew  them  over  the  sea  to  the  beautiful  distant 
islands.  They  packed  his  chest,  tied  it  up,  and  set  it 


io8  HOLYLAND 

in  the  storeroom.  Then,  putting  aside  all  thoughts  of 
tempest,  death,  and  weariness,  they  were  cheerful  once 
more.  Kai  Jans  and  Pete  were  now  received  as  true 
comrades,  but  Kai  was  still  an  invalid.  The  captain  had 
put  back  the  torn  portions  of  his  thumb  and  first  finger 
in  their  right  place,  smeared  the  whole  with  ointment, 
and  made  an  elegant  bandage.  More  he  couldn't  do. 
Kai  went  up  and  down  the  deck,  pale  with  pain  and  grief 
at  being  a  cripple  and  unable  to  do  anything.  He  did  as 
much  as  he  could  with  his  left  hand. 

By  the  third  day  Pe  Ontjes  could  bear  the  sight 
no  longer,  and  said  to  Pete,  "What  are  we  to  do  with 
him?  " 

"  Have  you  nothing  he  could  read,  sir?  That  might 
give  him  something  else  to  think  about." 

"When  we  are  alone,"  said  Pe  Ontjes,  "you  might 
drop  the  sir." 

'  Just  as  you  like,"  said  Pete,  proudly. 
'  What  sort  of  books  does  he  like?     Nautical  ones?  " 
'No;  that  isn't  his  line." 
'  Not  his  line.     He's  no  sailor,  then?  " 
'  No,  of  course  not. ' ' 

'  Oh,  ho  !  "  said  Pe  Ontjes;  "  that  alters  the  case." 
'  He  is  fondest  of  the  sort  of  books  you  read  at 
school,"  said  Pete.  "As  a  boy  he  read  the  French 
grammar  through  and  through.  He's  a  curious  being. 
He  doesn't  see  anything  that's  going  on  about  him.  He 
sees  wonders,  that's  my  opinion." 

Pe  Ontjes  looked  across  the  sunlit  water,  lost  in 
thought,  and  said,  as  if  to  himself,  "  Yes;  that  is  what 
he  is  like,  and  it's  an  utter  mistake  for  him  to  have 
become  a  sailor." 

"  Yes,  of  course,"  said  Pete.  "  There  are  lots  of  people 
who  ought  to  have  kingdoms,  but  where  are  they  to  get 
them  from  ?  ' ' 

The  mate  walked  aft,  thinking  deeply.  As  he  did  so 
his  eyes  happened  to  fall  on  Heine  Marquard,  squatting 
on  the  deck  with  his  cap  at  the  very  back  of  his  head, 
leaning  against  the  railing  and  scraping  off  the  rust, 
whistling  softly  the  while. 

"  Tell  me.  You  did  Latin  at  school,  didn't  you?  I've 
seen  all  sorts  of  books  about  in  your  place.  It  was  Latin, 
wasn't  it?" 


HOLYLAND  109 

Heine  Marquard  stopped  whistling  in  his  astonishment. 
"  Yes,"  he  said,  quite  taken  aback.  "  I  brought  the  stuff 
with  me,  and  sometimes  when  I  am  alone  in  the  cabin  I 
amuse  myself  by  knocking  the  books  from  one  corner  into 
the  other.  One  must  revenge  oneself  somehow,  sir." 

"  Well,"  said  Lau,  "you  would  be  doing  Jans  a  very 
good  turn  if  you  would  give  him  those  books  and  help 
him  a  bit  with  them,  don't  you  know — just  show  the 
main  road.  I  expect  he  can  find  out  the  side  paths  for 
himself." 

That  afternoon  Heine  Marquard,  son  of  the  Berlin 
Councillor,  fetched  his  Latin  grammar  and  his  Caesar, 
and  after  spitting  exactly  like  Captain  Deeken,  and  mak- 
ing a  number  of  weird  gestures  expressive  of  horror  and 
disgust,  squatted  once  more  upon  the  deck,  and  began  to 
point  out  the  "main  roads,"  finding  a  pleasure  in  them 
for  the  first  time  in  his  life.  Kai  Jans  sat  by  his  side 
with  an  eager,  anxious  face,  holding  up  his  hand  for  it 
had  begun  to  suppurate,  and  throbbed  painfully. 

They  all  took  to  him.  When  they  saw  him  secretly 
loosening  the  bandage  and  looking  at  his  wound  they  all 
came  up,  inspected  it,  and  told  stories  of  remarkable  cases 
of  healing.  "  You  needn't  be  afraid,"  they  would  say; 
"  it  will  get  all  right.  You'll  be  able  to  pull  down  a  tree 
with  it.  Only  wait  and  see  !  ' ' 

When  he  sat  in  his  corner  reading  and  looked  up  they 
made  some  joke,  and  Jan  Petersen  pretended  to  defend 
him  against  all  the  others,  saying,  "  You  stick  to  your 
learning;  that's  the  thing  for  you  ";  and  to  the  others, 
"  I  will  tell  you  something.  When  I  was  at  school  there 
was  a  boy  who  learned  and  learned  till  his  head  swam. 
He  was  always  at  his  books.  He  learned  himself  into 
a  fever  at  last,  and  his  mother  had  to  put  him  to  bed." 

"  What  happened  to  him?  " 

"  What  happened  to  him?  They  put  his  books  into  his 
little  coffin  with  him.  He  asked  them  to  do  that,  you 
see.  When  a  man's  got  learning  in  him  there's  nothing 
to  be  done.  I  can  tell  you,  it's  as  bad  as  drink." 

They  did  not  care  so  much  about  Pete  Boje.  Though 
he  had  jumped  down  the  ladder  so  bravely  at  Cape  Horn 
and  was  mighty  friendly,  they  did  not  care  for  him.  They 
felt  that  there  was  something  behind  his  friendliness,  and 


no  HOLYLAND 

that  he  wanted  to  rise  above  them.  Mate  Lau  saw  little 
of  him,  though  he  spoke  to  him  from  time  to  time. 

:<  The  Clara  was  a  bad  ship,"  said  he. 

"  I  learnt  a  great  deal  there  all  the  same,"  said  Pete. 

"  I  know  the  captain  and  the  mate,"  said  Pe  Ontjes, 
contemptuously. 

"That  explains  it,"  said  Pete.  "They  were  not  much 
like  the  almighty  here  and  his  representative  !  " 

"  Oh,  indeed  !  "  said  Pe  Ontjes,  going  away. 

He  came  back  next  day  when  he  was  off  duty.  As 
usual,  Pete  was  sitting  rather  apart  from  the  others,  read- 
ing a  book  on  naval  architecture  which  Heine  Marquard 
had  been  given  by  his  father.  Lau  had  his  short  pipe  in 
the  corner  of  his  mouth,  and  seemed  to  be  in  a  good 
humour.  He  only  smoked  when  in  exceptionally  high 
spirits. 

r<  I  say,  how  is  your  eldest  sister?  " 

"  I  think  she  is  quite  well,"  said  Pete. 

"  How  old  is  she  now?  about  eighteen,  isn't  she?  " 

"Yes." 

"  What  does  she  write  to  you  about?  " 

"Oh,  different  things." 

"  I  suppose  she  goes  now  and  then  to  see  my  parents?  " 

"  She  never  says  anything  about  it." 

' '  Has  she  ever  said  anything  about  me  in  any  of  her 
letters?  " 

"  She  said  once,  '  I  hope  you  will  never  have  the  bad 
luck  to  get  on  the  same  ship  as  the  big  Lau  boy  !  ' 

Pe  Ontjes  gave  a  short  laugh.  "  How  long  ago  was 
that?  " 

"Oh,  about  a  year  ago." 

"  So  long?  "  he  said,  in  a  tone  of  relief.  "  She  has 
changed  her  mind  since  then,  I  think." 

"  I  don't  imagine  so,"  replied  Pete. 

"  What  does  a  brother  know  of  his  sister?  "  remarked 
Pe  Ontjes,  turning  on  his  heel.  As  he  went  he  said, 
"  You  can  fetch  the  year's  numbers  of  the  English  Ship- 
builders' Journal,  if  you  like.  There  are  lots  of  models 
there.  You  know  English?" 

"Of  course,"  said  Pete,  indifferently. 

"You  want  to  rise,  of  course.     Nose  in  air — I  see." 

"That  is  in  the  family." 

"  Yes,  indeed,"  said  Pe  Ontjes ;  "  it  is  that !  " 


HOLYLAND  in 

They  had  a  glorious  voyage.  Everyone  who  took  part 
in  it  remembers  it — most  vividly  of  all  those  who  after- 
wards went  ashore  to  follow  a  profession.  They  were 
all  so  united.  There  were  no  sets  among  them — no 
cliques;  they  were  like  children  in  a  real  family.  Didn't 
they,  like  the  village  children,  change  their  games  ac- 
cording to  the  seasons?  They  play  Puss  in  the  Corner  in 
winter,  after  the  swine-killing;  tops  and  tig  at  Easter; 
dancing  in  summer ;  and  in  autumn  they  run  about  the 
open  fields  flying  their  kites ;  and  in  the  same  way  a 
proper  ship's  crew  that  goes  far  out  over  the  wide,  de- 
solate sea,  has  special  games  for  special  times. 

When  they  had  rounded  Cape  Horn  there  was  a  great 
cutting  out  of  caps.  "  A  plate,  cook — a  big  one  and  a 
little  one."  Then  two  circles,  cut  round  the  plates,  the 
difference  to  make  the  edge,  and  there's  your  baker's 
cap.  They  could  easily  have  put  all  the  work  on  to  one 
person.  Good  Torril  Torrilsen  and  William  Baldermann, 
who  was  rather  weak  in  his  head,  would  gladly  have  made 
the  few  caps  and  finished  them  off  ready  :  but  no  !  like 
properly-brought-up  children,  they  all  took  their  part  in 
every  game. 

Later,  when  they  got  into  the  southern  monsoon  they 
fished  and  caught  birds — every  man,  no  !  every  child  of 
them.  A  bit  of  bacon  at  the  end  of  the  line,  and  they  all 
gazed  over  the  stern  into  the  water  drawn  by  the  keel. 
Hans  Jessen  held  the  line.  Then  Hinnerk  Lornsen,  looking 
up,  "Boys!  here  are  albatrosses.  Quick,  where's  the 
sling  ?  " 

Hinnerk  Lornsen  plucked  them  and  stuffed  the  feathers 
into  a  canvas  pouch  which  he  brought  home  with  him. 
His  children,  seven  of  them,  sleep  in  the  little  red  house 
behind  the  Elbe  dyke  on  the  feathers  that  their  father 
plucked  in  the  South  Sea. 

Eight  weeks  later  they  had  rounded  Cape  Horn 
again,  after  a  few  rough  days,  and  were  slowly 
taking  their  homeward  way  towards  Teneriffe  with 
the  south-east  monsoon,  not  touching  a  sail  for 
three  whole  weeks.  Then  there  was  a  great  carving 
of  ships.  The  fore  deck  was  entirely  covered  with  shav- 
ings. The  best  of  all  were  made  by  old  Dierk  Peters, 
who  was  close  on  fifty.  As  a  young  man  he  had  become 
acquainted  with  a  pretty  Holstein  girl,  whom  he  met  in 


ii2  HOLYLAND 

a  street  in  Hamburg".  She  yielded  readily  enough  to  the 
fiery  young  sailor.  He  treated  her  honourably  and  married 
her.  In  the  first  year  of  their  marriage  he  spent  twelve 
days  with  her  altogether.  The  first  time  he  came  home 
she  was  quite  beside  herself  with  joy.  The  second  time 
he  found  a  strange  cigar-case  on  the  window-sill.  The 
third  time  his  child  lay  in  the  cemetery,  and  she  could 
not  even  tell  him  the  number  of  its  grave.  The  fourth 
time  he  found  her  lying  unconscious  on  her  bed  :  when 
she  awoke  and  saw  him  she  went  out  of  the  room  and 
did  not  return.  He  went  back  to  sea,  and  became  quieter 
and  quieter.  He  had  become  possessed  with  the  idea 
that  he  was  a  double  murderer  of  his  wife,  inasmuch  as 
he  had  brought  her  to  Hamburg  from  her  native  village, 
and  of  his  child,  inasmuch  as  he  vras  the  cause  of  his 
miserable  existence,  and,  therefore,  of  his  death.  He 
came  of  a  stock  that  bears  burdens  on  its  own  shoulders 
instead  of  casting  everything  on  Providence  or  Fate : 
and  the  shoulders  have  grown  broad  and  strong  in  the 
process. 

He  carved  the  best  ship,  working  at  it  for  six  weeks 
until  they  reached  the  heights  of  Teneriffe,  and  presented 
it  to  the  mate.  When  Anna  Boje's  little  children  lay  on 
their  backs  in  their  cradles  and  let  their  eyes  wander, 
they  saw  either  their  mother's  lovely  face  or  the  ship 
hanging  from  the  beam  which  had  been  carved  out  on  the 
Atlantic  by  Dierk  Peters,  who  called  himself  a  double 
murderer. 

Pete  carved  too.  He  was  clever  enough  to  take  his 
part  in  all  the  games  which  the  Gude  Wife's  children 
played ;  but  he  soon  withdrew,  and  sat  buried  in  the  Ship- 
building Manual  lent  him  from  the  aft  cabin,  or  in  the 
study  of  his  models. 

They  were  in  the  south-east  monsoon  for  five  weeks. 
From  Slate  Island  to  the  Equator  not  a  wind  climbed  into 
the  rigging  to  change  the  sails.  Then  came  a  slight 
squall,  the  wind  veered  round  to  the  north-east,  and  for 
weeks  more,  until  they  reached  Western  Island,  there 
was  no  work  on  the  sails. 

Such  Saturday  afternoons  as  they  had  ! 

Everyone  knows  what  Saturday  afternoons  on  a  first- 
class  Hamburg  sailing-ship  are  like ;  but  there  were  never 
such  delightful  ones  on  any  ship  as  on  board  the  Gude 


HOLYLAND  113 

Wife  on  this  voyage.  They  all  sat  on  deck  to  the  lee- 
ward side — one  patching-,  another  washing,  a  third  darn- 
ing, a  fourth  reading,  a  fifth  whistling,  and  a  sixth  talking 
to  anyone  who  would  listen. 

William  Baldermann  sat  with  his  back  to  the  water- 
cask  mending  the  lining  of  his  mess-jacket.  He  really 
deserved  a  new  one,  but  he  wanted  to  save.  He  had  not 
been  very  successful  in  doing  it  so  far,  but  now  he  was 
really  going  to  save.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  it  had  hardly 
been  worth  while  before.  What  is  five  pounds,  or  even 
ten?  You  can't  begin  to  save  so  little  as  that.  Three 
days  ashore,  and  it  has  all  slipped  through  your  fingers 
— gone  for  ever.  This  time,  however,  it  was  worth  while. 
In  Apia  he  had  mercifully  been  ill,  and  stayed  on  board, 
and  now  he  had  twenty-five  pounds  in  the  old  'un's  box. 
Twenty-five  pounds !  That  would  be  something  like, 
going  home  with  that.  First  to  Gliickstadt,  to  the  old 
people,  and  throw  fifteen  pounds  on  the  table.  "  For 
your  old  age."  Then  to  Altona,  to  the  navigation  school. 
High  time  for  that,  he  was  twenty-eight.  That  was  why 
he  was  darning  away  at  his  coat,  and  smiling  happily 
to  himself. 

He  did  not  carry  out  his  plan.  As  soon  as  he  got  to 
Cuxhaven  he  fell  into  the  land  sharks'  hands.  They 
passed  off  two  watches  upon  him — one  for  each  waist- 
coat pocket — the  very  newest  thing;  and  the  next  day 
there  he  was  in  a  box  in  the  music-hall  at  St.  Pauli  with 
a  bedizened  female  on  either  side.  On  the  ninth  day  he 
slank  away  from  Hamburg  on  board  an  English  vessel. 

Heine  Marquard  had  brought  his  workbox  on  deck, 
and,  after  soaping  it  over,  was  now  standing  upon  it  with 
legs  wide  apart,  working  away  with  his  broom,  thinking, 
as  he  laughed  to  himself,  "  Mother  ought  to  see  me  now, 
and  my  lieutenant  brother";  and  with  that  his  home 
went  out  of  his  head,  and  he  began  to  wave  his  broom 
in  time  to  an  air  he  was  whistling. 

Jacob  Simsen  and  Otto  Fink  sat  back  to  back.  Jacob 
was  carving  a  panel  with  a  Latin  inscription  to  the  effect 
that  one  must  wander  far  and  wide,  to  distant  countries, 
over  the  wide  sea,  although  one  might  meet  death  on 
the  way.  Otto  was  darning.  They  were  the  same  age — 
about  twenty — that  is,  in  the  fulness  of  their  youthful 
prime;  but  their  faces  were  very  unlike.  Jacob  had 

I 


ji4  HOLYLAND 

grown  up  in  the  kindly  atmosphere  of  a  parsonage,  among 
brothers  and  sisters  now  scattered  throughout  Holstein 
in  parsonages  of-  their  own ;  he  was  a  constant  reader  of  the 
Bible  and  his  great  friend  was  Torril  Torrilsen,  although  the 
good  old  man  was  thirty  years  his  senior.  The  carving 
was  for  his  mother,  and  as  he  worked  at  it  he  thought 
of  those  roguish  brothers  of  his  and  the  little  sister,  who 
will  marry,  one  day,  and  have  children,  with  a  gentle, 
kindly  expression  on  his  face. 

Otto  Fink  scowled  at  the  world.  He  was  the  son  of 
a  rich  farmer  in  Ditmarsh.  One  morning,  when  he  was 
seventeen,  he  and  the  farm  boy  were  ploughing  over  a 
wet  ditch  with  four  horses  when  suddenly  the  off-horse 
slipped  and  pulled  the  one  behind  down  with  him.  The 
boy  and  all  four  horses  lay  in  the  ditch. 

His  father,  standing  at  the  door  with  his  hands  in  his 
pockets,  saw  it  all,  and  came  up  just  as  the  boy  and  two 
horses  had  been  safely  extricated.  Although  he  saw  how 
steep  and  slippery  the  place  was,  he  flew  out  against  the 
boy  in  uncontrolled  rage.  "  You're  a  good-for-nothing 
....  Get  out  of  my  sight,  and  never  let  me  set  eyes  on 
you  again.  It's  the  best  thing  you  can  do.  Tell  me  when 
you  want  to  go  and  how  much  money  you  want  with 
you.  I  don't  care  about  anything  so  long  as  you  go." 
And  with  these  words  he  turned  and  went. 

The  boy  put  everything  to  rights  and  ploughed  till 
mid-day.  Then  he  went  to  his  father,  his  face  hard  and 
set,  and  said,  "  Give  me  the  money." 

His  father,  his  face  as  hard  as  his  son's,  threw  a  fifty 
pound  note  on  the  table  without  a  word.  The  boy  went 
to  his  sister's  room  and  got  her  to  make  him  a  purse  of 
white  linen,  on  a  stout  cord.  He  put  the  money  in  it 
and  hung  it  round  his  neck,  next  to  his  bare  chest.  Then 
he  left  the  house  and  went  to  his  aunt,  who  lived  an  hour's 
ride  away,  and  stayed  eight  days  with  her.  Every  evening 
for  eight  days  his  eyes  rested  at  curfew  on  his  father's 
big,  beautiful  farm,  and  every  evening  at  the  same  time 
his  father  stood  in  front  of  the  farm  and  looked  across 
to  him.  They  saw  each  other  standing  thus,  and  each 
knew  how  the  other's  heart  yearned ;  but  pride  would 
not  yield — the  pride  of  seventeen  no  more  than  that  of  fifty. 
And  no  one  else  could  reach  those  hard  hearts — mother, 
sister,  clergyman,  or  friends.  They  knew  that  every 


HOLYLAND  115 

word  only  hardened  them  the  more.  On  the  eighth  day 
he  went  to  Hamburg  and  joined  the  Gude  Wife.  And 
now  he  sat  back  to  back  with  Jacob  Simsen — the  one 
carving  at  his  cheerless  Latin  with  happy  thoughts  of 
his  dear  home,  the  other  living  again,  with  darkened 
face,  the  dark  episode  of  his  departure. 

Two  years  later  Jacob  died  of  malaria,  on  board  ship, 
near  the  Gold  Coast.  Torril  Torrilsen  prayed  with  him, 
and  spoke  the  Lord's  Prayer  over  him,  slowly,  as  he  lay  on 
the  rail.  Every  day  his  father  and  his  mother  look  up  at 
the  carving.  It  came  home  safely,  and  hangs  now  over 
the  sofa. 

Soon  afterwards  Otto  Fink  left  the  Gude  Wife  at  a  South 
American  port.  Nothing  was  heard  of  him.  He  never 
wrote.  Twenty-five  years  later,  a  year  after  the  death 
of  his  father,  he  suddenly  appeared  in  his  native  place,  a 
cold,  handsome  man,  the  image  of  his  father,  unmarried, 
captain  on  a  large  steamer  sailing  between  San  Francisco 
and  Yokohama.  He  visited  the  aunt  who  had  befriended 
him,  and  made  some  short  excursions  in  the  neighbour- 
hood, drinking  a  glass  of  wine  with  a  few  old  acquaint- 
ances, but  communicating  little  of  his  present  life.  To 
his  younger  brother  he  spoke  like  a  stranger.  His  sister 
was  dead.  He  remained  eight  days  without  going  to  his 
father's  farm  or  visiting  his  father's  grave.  In  his  stern 
face  and  rigid  bearing  anger  still  seemed  to  smoulder, 
and  no  one  touched  his  heart.  And  all  from  one  angry 
word — "  Never  let  me  see  your  face  again  !  " 

Pete  Boje  stitched  a  loose  button  on  to  his  best  suit. 
He  was  not  really  fussy,  but  everything  in  his  kit  was 
clean  and  tidy. 

Kai  Jans  sat  in  a  heap,  his  wounded,  bandaged  hand 
resting  on  his  head — it  did  not  burn  and  throb  so  much 
when  he  held  it  up — reading  Caesar  and  consulting  the 
grammar  alternately.  Hinnerk  Lornsen,  sitting  by  his 
side,  was  telling  the  sailmaker  his  favourite  story  of  how 
the  pilot's  fair-haired  daughter,  fourteen  years  old,  had 
sailed  about  with  him  in  his  canoe  on  the  river  at  Aber- 
dovey  in  Wales,  and  taught  him  to  speak  English  and  to 
kiss.  That  was  a  long  time  ago.  Now  he  was  forty, 
and  father  of  five  children.  In  the  middle  sat  Hans 
Jessen,  flat  on  the  deck,  with  a  volume  of  the  Boy's  Own 
on  his  knees  that  the  kind  neighbour  at  home  had  given 

I   2 


n6  HOLYLAND 

him — kind  to  him,  although  she  had  eight  children  of  her 
own.  Idly  turning  over  the  leaves,  he  cried  out,  "  L@ok 
here,  here's  the  crew  of  the  expedition  to  the  North 
Pole  !  "  Two  or  three  were  at  his  shoulder  on  the  instant. 
Heine  Marquard,  who,  having  sat  sulky  and  dumb  on 
the  bench  at  school,  was  now  glad  of  any  opportunity  of 
showing  off  his  learning,  leant  over  him,  and  good  old 
Torril  Torrilsen,  who  was  sitting  by  his  side  mending  Kai 
Jans'  jacket  with  grey  wool  of  the  thickness  of  your  little 
finger,  leant  over  too,  and,  putting  his  rough-worn  brown 
forefinger  under  the  picture,  said,  "Look;  there's  my 
name."  They  all  looked  at  the  picture  and  recognised 
him.  Even  Kai  Jans  lifted  up  his  eyes  to  look,  and  then 
gazed,  dreaming,  across  the  sea  into  the  dim  darkness. 

Afterwards,  as  evening  came  on,  they  sang  old  songs. 
Whoever  shared  these  Saturday  evenings  on  the  Gude 
Wife  has  never  forgotten  them. 


It  was  a  lovely,  clear  September  evening,  a  hundred 
and  fifty  days  after  the  Gude  Wife  and  her  children  had 
raised  anchor  in  the  harbour  of  Apia.  They  all  stood  on 
deck,  looking  out,  waiting.  The  sun  went  down,  twilight 
came  on,  still  no  fire.  So  they  went  below,  for  the  air 
was  chill.  They  had  hardly  got  down — William  Balder- 
mann,  always  the  last,  was  actually  still  in  the  doorway 
— when  out  sang  the  cheerful  voice  of  Jacob  Simsen,  the 
look-out,  "  Light  ahoy  !  " 

They  all  rushed  on  deck,  on  top  of  the  forecastle,  and 
stared  across  the  twilit  sea.  There  in  the  distance  was 
the  Lizard  light,  glaring  down  from  the  cliffs  over  the  grey 
waste  of  waters  with  its  wild-beast  eyes. 

"  Think,  only  think,  man.  What  shall  we  do  when  we 
first  get  to  Hamburg?  " 

"  What  will  mother  say?     Think  of  that !  " 

"  Pete,  do  you  know  I  haven't  been  home  for  two 
years." 

"  I  haven't  been  home  for  four  !  "  said  Pete.  Looking 
round  with  sparkling  eyes,  he  found  no  Kai  Jans  among 
the  others.  He  went  down  below  and  found  him  crouch- 
ing in  the  darkest  corner  on  Torrilsen 's  locker  with  his 
bandaged  hand  resting  on  his  knee.  He  stopped  at  the 
door  and  said  rather  hesitatingly,  "  Be  glad  !  " 


HOLYLAND  117 

"What  for?"  said  Kai  in  an  expressionless  voice. 

Pete  went  up  again. 

The  next  day  the  English  coast  slowly  came  in  sight. 
In  two  days  more  they  had  come  through  the  Channel. 
On  the  evening  of  the  fourth  day  they  passed  the  first 
Elbe  lightship.  By  the  fifth  they  were  being  hauled  in, 
and  there  was  no  getting  them  away  from  the  forecastle. 
Mate  Lau  might  harangue  them  sapiently,  but  it  was  no 
use. 

Hans  Jessen  kept  coming  up  to  Pete.  ' '  Look  !  look  ! 
there's  Neufeldt.  Look  !  look  there  !  I  say,  man,  isn't  it 
first-rate?  "  \ 

Pete  listened,  seeing  in  his  mind's  eye  the  Hilligenlei 
tower  and  the  low  room  where  his  mother — 

Up  came  mate  Lau.  "What  are  your  plans?"  he 
said.  "  I  mean,  for  the  rest  of  your  life — always  a 
sailor?  " 

Pete  shrugged  his  shoulders.  "If  it  was  like  the  old 
days,  when  the  ship  was  your  own,  or  a  bit  of  it !  " 

"Yes,  if  !  "  replied  Pe  Ontjes.  "  If !  Now  it's  a  con- 
foundedly poor  affair.  You're  only  an  official,  and  on  the 
water  at  that.  It's  all  right  while  one's  young.  But 
afterwards ' 

"  Yes  !  "  said  Pete,  deep  in  thought;  and,  looking  into 
the  future,  he  seemed  to  see  his  life's  course  dimly 
stretching  out  before  him,  as  one  sees  the  harbour  stream 
through  the  morning  mists.  "  Since  I  went  to  sea  I've 
been  more  interested  in  the  ship  itself  than  in  -sailing. 
It's  the  construction  and  the  way  it  goes  under  the  sails 
that  interests  me  so  tremendously.  And  the  old  man  on 
the  Clara,  he  made  me  feel  it  all  a  great  deal  more.  I 
don't  know,  but  if  a  man  devotes  himself,  heart  and  soul, 
to  a  thing  from  his  youth  up,  and  at  the  end  really  knows 
it,  he  must  be  fit  for  something;  he  must  be  really  worth 
something ;  and  the  grander,  the  more  important  the 
thing  is  in  itself.  .  .  .  Yes,  yes;  that's  what  I  think.  I 
don't  know  any  more." 

The  mate  nodded  slowly  several  times.  "Yes;  there 
is  a  good  deal  in  that,"  he  nodded  again,  and  waved  his 
hand  in  the  air,  "  nose  in  air,  eyes  wide  open,  there  is  a 
great  deal  in  that.  Dock  inspector,  or  something  like 
that  ?  Upwards,  always  upwards  !  " 

"  And  you?  "  said  Bete,  politely. 


n8  HOLYLAND 

"I?  Well,  I  will  tell  you  something,  only  don't  talk 
about  it  to  the  others.  I  shall  stick  to  the  Gude  Wife 
for  three  or  four  years,  and  then  I  shall  see  if  I  can't  fix 
myself  up  on  shore." 

"In  Hamburg?" 

"No;  in  Hilligenlei." 

"  In  Hilligenlei?  "  said  Pete  in  astonishment. 

' '  Yes ;  my  dad  has  a  plan  which  he  is  beginning  to  put 
into  execution — a  corn  exchange  on  a  small  scale,  to  deal 
in  maize  and  barley  with  the  Hamburg  smacks.  There's 
nothing  to  be  done  in  Hilligenlei;  it's  dead  alive;  but  the 

neighbourhood  is  good,  the  country  folk Anyhow, 

I'm  not  going  to  Hilligenlei  this  time.  But  go  to  my 
dad,  will  you,  and  give  him  my  love,  and  regards  to  your 
mother  and  sister." 

"I  thought,"  said  Pete,  "you  were  coming  to  see 
what  became  of  Kai  Jans." 

"  I  have  thought  a  great  deal  about  it,  I  can  tell  you, 
but  nothing  has  come  of  it  except  writing  a  very  long 
letter  to  old  Wedderkop.  Do  you  know  him?  He  is 
the  one  creature  in  the  place  with  a  soul  above  the  common- 
place. Go  and  see  the  old  boy,  and  tell  him  what  a  fine 
fellow  Kai  is.  You  know  him  as  well  as  I  do.  No  good 
as  a  sailor,  quite  apart  from  his  useless  hand.  If  he  doesn't 
know  of  anything  else  he  might  get  him  into  some  busi- 
ness in  Hamburg." 


As  the  sun  was  sinking  next  day  they  were  just  about 
to  sit  down  to  supper  in  the  little,  low  house.  The  mother 
was  still  at  the  machine,  but  Heinke  and  Hett  were  play- 
ing impatiently  with  the  cups.  Then  a  quick  step  came 
along — a  quick,  uneven  step — that  stopped  under  their 
window. 

Their  breath  stood  still.  Oh  !  how  happy  they  were  ! 
how  happy  they  were  !  How  his  mother  stroked  him  ! 
Heinke  and  Hett  began  to  cry  aloud  when  they  saw  it. 
They  had  never  seen  a  big  man  stroked  before. 

Then  what  a  wondering. 

"  How  tall  you've  got." 

"  Not  tall,  mother  ;  broad  !  " 

"  I  say,  Anna,  what  a  huge  girl  you've  grown." 

"I'm  as  tall  as  you  are,"  said  she. 


HOLYLAND  119 

"And  I'm  nearly  as  tall,"  said  Heinke,  "though  I'm 
only  twelve  !  ' ' 

"  I  seem  to  be  the  littlest,  then,"  he  laughed. 

"  But  who  is  the  stupidest?  " 

"  Oh !  "  said  she;  "  we  shall  see  in  time.  We  haven't 
fallen  on  our  heads  yet !  " 

He  looked  round  and  rejoiced — all  tall,  all  fair-haired, 
all  with  proud,  grey  eyes.  Then  what  questions  !  He 
put  fifteen  pounds  on  the  table.  "  Mother  has  paid  off 
ten  pounds,"  said  Heinke.  "  The  work's  far  too 
hard." 

He  sat  down  by  the  machine  to  see  how  it  was  made, 
and  scolded  his  mother,  who  stood  by  him,  her  laughing 
eyes  full  of  tears. 

' '  How  did  Lau  treat  you  ?  ' ' 

He  praised  him.  "  A  bit  proud  !  but  we're  that,  too; 
but  a  fine  sailor,  and  just.  He  sent  regards  to  you — you 
too,  Anna." 

She  threw  back  her  fair  head  without  saying  anything. 

Heinke  stood,  a  question  trembling  on  her  red  young 
lips. 

"  Do  you  know,  I  have  read  all  the  letters  that  Kai  Jans 
sent  home,  and  I've  always  sent  my  love  to  him,  and  he 
his  to  me." 

"Yes,  I  know.     His  hand  isn't  better  yet." 

"  Oh  !  not  yet?     May  I  go  now,  mother?  " 

She  flew  down  the  harbour  street,  up  the  side  of  the 
dyke,  and  went  in.  There  sat  the  tall,  brown  youth  with 
his  bandaged  hand,  at  the  table,  his  father  and  mother 
with  him.  All  three  faces  were  oppressed  and  sad.  They 
were  as  far  again  from  each  other  as  they  had  been  four 
years  ago.  She  stood  in  awkward  embarrassment  at  the 
door,  looking  at  him  and  thinking,  "  How  thin  and  ugly 
he  is."  She  had  only  seen  him  once,  four  years  ago, 
when  he  went  away  with  Pete,  and  had  thought  him 
handsome. 

"  Look,"  said  Mala  Jans,  lifting  up  her  head.  "  There 
is  Heinke  Boje.  She  thinks  a  great  deal  of  you." 

She  stepped  up  to  the  table,  holding  away  her  arm. 
"  I  am  glad  to  see  you,"  she  said,  in  a  friendly  tone. 
"  Does  your  hand  hurt?  " 

He  shook  his  head.  "No,  not  now."  Then,  reach- 
ing to  the  window-sill,  "  Look,  I  have  brought  you  a  little 


120  HOLYLAND 

basket  from  Samoa."  Knowing  that  the  Bojes  had  to 
be  treated  circumspectly,  he  added,  "  I  bought  it  on 
purpose  for  you." 

"That  was  very  nice  of  you,"  she  said,  slowly  and  dis- 
tinctly, looking  happily  down  at  the  basket.  "  What  are 
you  going  to  do  now?  " 

"  Oh  !  if  I  knew  !  "  said  he,  despondently,  looking  ner- 
vously at  his  silent  parents. 

"  I  did  not  tell  you,"  said  his  mother,  "that  Kassen 
Wedderkop  had  read  all  your  letters.  He  said  Pe  Ontjes 
had  written  to  him.  Perhaps  he  may  know  of  something 
for  you. ' ' 

The  door  opened,  and  Kassen  Wedderkop  came  in. 
Decidedly,  he  was  too  tall  and  too  broad  for  the  low  room 
with  its  two  tiny  windows.  His  groaning  and  his  voice 
were  much  too  loud  for  so  small  a  space  and  three  such 
shy  auditors. 

"Oh,  no;  there  he  is,"  said  he.  "Well,  how's  the 
hand?  "  Taking  hold  of  his  arm,  he  led  him  into  the 
declining  light  to  look  at  him.  The  refined,  intelligent 
eyes,  the  wide,  proudly-cut  mouth,  pleased  him  as  much 
now  as  they  had  done  four  years  ago  in  Heine  Wulk's 
office.  "  How's  the  Latin  grammar  getting  on?  and 
Caesar?  The  people  in  Korea  were  all  deaf,  that's  why 
I  speak  so  loud.  Well,  to  go  to  the  point  at  once,  if  you 
like  you  can  go  to  your  books.  The  old  manager  is  dead, 
and  there  are  two  or  three  young  teachers  who  are  glad 
of  anything  out  of  the  way."  He  gave  a  deep  groan, 
feeling  his  back.  "  One  thing  only  I  ask  of  you.  Later, 
when  you  are  a  man,  you  are  to  be  inspired  by  my  great 
idea — that  is,  that  the  peoples  round  about  the  North 
Sea,  they  are  of  one  race,  of  one  faith — they  all  have  the 
lion  as  their  coat  of  arms.  They  are  to  join  together, 
offensive  and  defensive  alliance — and  even  if  it  is  fifty  years 
before  it  happens,  and  wars  come  between,  you  are  to 
believe  in  it !  " 

"That  I  will,"  said  Kai,  his  emaciated  face  glowing 
with  joy  and  goodness.  "  All  peoples  should  be  one." 

When  their  first  joy  was  abated  Thomas  Jans  remarked, 
with  that  expression  of  shy  shrewdness,  touched  with 
roguishness,  which  often  came  into  his  eyes,  especially 
when  talking  with  so-called  educated  folk,  "  Yes  !  "  he 
said,  "  yes  !  He  has  seen  so  much — America,  Africa, 


HOLYLAND  121 

China.  He  has  been  right  round  the  world.  But  he 
hasn't  found  Hilligenlei,  the  Holyland,  yet!  " 

Kassen  Wedderkop  laughed  with  some  embarrassment. 

"  No?     Where  is  it  to  be  found?  " 

"Where,  indeed?"  said  Thomas.  "I  believe" — his 
eyes  were  full  of  roguery — "  I  believe  it  doesn't  exist  yet; 
it  is  somewhere  in  the  future  !  " 

He  was  thinking  of  the  Utopia  of  the  Labour  Party. 
That  seemed  the  Holyland  to  him.  And  he  thought, 
"Now  he  will  be  a  learned  man,  and  he  will  help  us  to 
reach  it ;  "  but  he  did  not  dare  to  say  so  before  his  son,  or 
before  the  educated  man. 

His  little  mother  leant  against  him,  saying  softly,  with 
beaming  eyes,  "  Kai,  shall  you  go  to  school  in  your  mess- 
jacket?  " 

But  he  heard  nothing  that  they  said.  He  stood  in 
wonder  and  astonishment  at  the  entrance  to  a  new  life. 
He  saw  himself  wandering  along  it — wandering,  wander- 
ing— thinking  at  every  turning  in  the  road,  at  every  rising 
in  the  ground,  "The  Holyland  is  coming — here  it  is." 


CHAPTER   XI 

A  YEAR  after  his  return  Kai  Jans,  able-bodied  seaman, 
now  twenty  years  of  age,  went  to  the  grammar  school 
with  a  blue  cap  on — no  trifle  that.  Think  of  Torril  Tor- 
rilsen,  who  never  took  up  a  book  or  paper  of  any  kind 
except  the  old  hymn  book  with  the  Bible  picture  in  front. 
Think  of  Heine  Marquard,  who  said  that  if  he  were  king 
he  would  see  that  everybody,  instead  of  going  to  the 
grammar  school,  went  to  sea,  fore  or  aft  cabin,  accord- 
ing to  his  worth.  And  now  he  sat  among  people  who 
would  spend  half  an  hour  over  a  Latin  sentence,  among 
teachers,  one  of  whom  said  that  Horace  was  the  wisest 
man  that  ever  lived  in  the  world,  while  another  regarded 
the  binomial  theorem  as  the  key  to  all  wisdom.  Most 
assuredly,  he  had  got  into  a  different  world.  Instead  of 
the  fresh  breeze  blowing  over  the  wide,  boundless  sea,  he 
had  a  funny  little  low  room,  with  heaps  of  books  and 
very  small  windows. 

The  greatest  hardship  was  the  old  one.  The  trouble  he 
had  had  as  a  child,  had  never  lost  while  at  sea,  was  with 
him  still,  more  acute  than  ever,  among  these  sharp, 
learned  people.  The  expression  of  his  deepest  thoughts, 
thoughts  that  seemed  to  him  natural  and  even  obvious, 
used  to  rouse  wonder  and  ridicule  in  others.  Had  he 
known  that  what  he  said  was  astonishing  he  would  have 
kept  silent,  but  he  only  discovered  it  to  be  so  from  the 
scorn  and  astonishment  in  their  faces. 

There  was  a  school  ball,  to  which  he  went,  for  he  was 
fond  of  dancing  in  the  genial  sailor's  way.  He  liked  danc- 
ing with  Anna  Boje  best.  She  was  just  his  age ;  both  were 
twenty.  He  talked  to  her  about  Pete,  now  at  the  naviga- 
tion school,  and  they  got  on  well  together  in  a  straight- 
forward, friendly  way.  If  he  did  say  anything  extraor- 
dinary he  knew  that  Anna  would  not  repeat  it.  The 


HOLYLAND  123 

Bojes  stood  by  him,  and  never  allowed  anyone  they  cared 
for  to  be  laughed  at. 

Afterwards,  however,  he  danced  with  the  daughter  of 
one  of  the  masters.  He  jestingly  compared  Ringerang's 
hall,  where  they  were,  to  the  Hamburg  harbour,  making 
those  stout  old  beer-drinkers  into  the  quay  with  the 
dredgers ;  the  seven  portly  elderly  dames  into  the  four- 
masted  full-rigged  vessels  in  the  sailing-dock;  and  the 
doctor's  two  malicious  little  daughters  into  the  tugs. 
She  held  her  fan  in  front  of  her  smiling  face.  "  Now," 
said  he,  "let's  cut  across  the  harbour.  Take  care.  We 
almost  grazed  that  coalship — great  black  thing  she  is. 
Look  !  there's  Anna  Boje  sailing  past,  the  proud  Gude 
Wife.  Now  we  cast  anchor." 

The  pretty  creature  soon  spread  the  report  of  what 
Kai  had  said,  and  there  was  no  end  of  talk.  His  school- 
fellows teased  him  remorselessly.  "  You  have  hardly  a 
word  to  say  for  yourself  generally  !  and  now  all  at  once  a 
whole  history  !  " 

The  dredgers  and  the  full-rigged  vessels  declared  he 
was  only  a  workman's  son,  and  would  be  a  common 
sailor  all  his  life.  The  director  took  him  aside  and  ad- 
vised him  to  be  more  careful. 

The  whole  thing  was  painful  to  him.  He  resolved  firmly 
only  to  open  his  lips  when  it  was  absolutely  necessary. 

It  was  very  well  to  resolve  to  be  careful.  People  of  his 
simple,  trusting  disposition  forget  their  fine  resolutions  ; 
a  time  comes  when  the  over-full  heart  pours  out,  in  the 
exquisite  confusion  of  immaturity,  all  the  glory  of  those 
secret  dreams  which  wait  shyly  for  their  blossoming 
time. 

Jacob  Sill  was  in  the  highest  form,  and  excelled  all  his 
comrades  in  mind  as  in  body.  Later,  as  a  student,  un- 
bridled license  drove  him  in  the  bloom  of  youth  into  a 
desperate  grave.  Now  his  eager  spirit,  thirsting  for 
beauty  everywhere,  saw  it  throned  in  the  dark  depths  of 
Kai  Jans'  eyes.  He  sought  him  out  and  won  his  confid- 
ence. On  the  three  paths  on  the  footpath  up  the  hill,  and 
along  the  tow  path  on  top,  from  which  you  can  see  far 
over  land  and  sea,  Kai  Jans  let  fly  his  beautiful  wild  doves. 
Aha  !  how  beautifully  they  flew  !  how  they  tumbled  over  one 
another  in  the  air  when  Truth,  that  tiresome  jay,  swooped 
down  upon  them. 


i24  HOLYLAND 

"  Don't  you  think  so?  Do  you  believe  what  he  said 
about  the  French  Revolution?  Wasn't  it  just  and  right? 
When  a  lazy,  incompetent  government  allows  the  people 
to  be  so  crushed  by  the  deadweight  of  a  ruling  class  that 
it  can  neither  stir  nor  breathe,  one  day  the  people  will 
shake  off  that  weight,  in  sheer  need  of  air.  Good  govern- 
ment provides  for  interest  and  advance  in  every  class — 
for  hope  and  movement  everywhere.  To  do  so  is  the 
highest  political  wisdom.  .  .  Anyhow,  one  must  not  accept 
what  the  teachers  say — every  preposition,  wherever  found, 
even  if  it  be  in  the  Bible,  even  if  it  be  spoken  by  the 
Saviour,  must  be  examined  with  the  open  eyes,  with 
which  Adam  regarded  the  new  aspects  of  nature  opening 
before  his  gaze.  The  other  day  he  threw  down  a  state- 
ment— there  would  always  be  war,  he  said,  always.  How 
can  anyone  say  '  always  '  ?  What  do  we  know  about 
always  ?  Moltke  said  that;  he  took  it  over  from  him 
without  examining  it.  We  get  it  from  him,  to  hand  it 
on  in  our  turn  without  examination.  What  does  it  matter 
to  me  what  Moltke  thought?  What  is  his  opinion  worth 
to  me,  or  the  opinion  on  this  or  any  subject  of  the  Em- 
peror, the  Pope,  or  the  newspapers  ?  Anybody  who  simply 
listens  to  other  people  has  lost  his  blue  ribbon  and  gone 
down  into  the  second  class.  Life  is  too  serious  a  busi- 
ness, too  full  of  danger  and  responsibility,  to  be  carried 
on  by  running  after  other  people. 

"  Were  you  there  the  other  day  when  I  had  forgotten 
my  Testament  and  Fritz  Petersen  lent  me  his?  He  gave 
it  me,  saying,  in  a  mock  serious  tone,  '  This  is  my  blood, 
poured  out  for  you. '  I  looked  at  him.  He  has  a  beauti- 
ful, serious  sort  of  face,  and  I  was  astonished  at  such  a 
jest  on  his  lips.  If  you  pass  a  nice  girl  you  don't  take 
her  and  push  her  into  the  gutter.  You  respect  a  brave 
man  when  you  meet  one.  But  do  you  know  why  it  is  ? 
The  reason  is,  the  church  doesn't  represent  the  Saviour 
humanly.  They  have  made  a  golden  image  of  Him  with 
dead,  speechless  eyes — an  old,  dead  image,  and  that  I 
throw  into  the  gutter.  Away  with  it.  Fritz  Petersen 
would  never  mock  at  Frederick  the  Great  or  Bismarck  or 
a  nice-minded  girl — never;  but  he  mocks  at  the  Saviour." 

The  German  master  was  a  clever,  conscientious  teacher. 
He  set  an  essay  on  "  If  I  rest,  I  rust."  A  few  days  later 
the  essays  were  given  back  without  his  saying  a  word 


HOLYLAND  125 

about  Kai  Jans',  although  at  the  end  he  wrote  "  A  good 
essay."  Kai,  suspecting  something  beneath  this  brief 
comment,  asked  the  teacher.  He  replied,  "  If  you  want 
to  know,  the  essay  is  good,  but  it  is  not  your  own  work. 
The  ideas  can  only  be  those  of  a  man  of  fifty. ' '  Kai  Jans 
turned  pale  and  sat  down,  not  knowing  what  to  do. 

Towards  the  end  of  the  hour  Jacob  Sill  stood  up  sud- 
denly and  said,  "  May  I  say  something,  sir?  I  am  con- 
vinced that  we  are  all  aware  that  Kai  Jans  has  naturally 
the  thoughts  and  the  knowledge  that  other  men  only 
acquire  in  the  course  of  long  experience. " 

The  teacher  looked  at  him  with  astonishment,  and  after 
some  thought  said,  simply,  "  In  that  case  I  take  back 
what  I  said."  But  he  was  not  convinced,  and  continued 
cold  towards  Kai. 

Jacob  Sill  had  promised  not  to  reveal  a  word  of  their 
conversations  on  the  tow  path,  but  in  a  weak  moment  he 
talked,  and  taunts  and  the  scoffing  looks  revived. 
Teachers,  too,  scoffed.  From  that  time  he  became  more 
circumspect,  only  talking  with  his  schoolfellows  about 
things  connected  with  the  lesson,  or  things  they  saw 
around  them.  But  all  the  time  his  spirit  was  working  its 
way,  pained  and  astonished,  through  the  brambles  of 
opinion,  gazing  about  it  with  the  eyes  of  which  he  had 
spoken  to  Jacob. 

Oh  !  that  it  were  possible  for  these  proud,  lonely  spirits 
to  find  someone  to  help  and  admonish  them  in  the  awful 
broodings,  the  wild,  fanatic  dreams  of  youth.  But  if  they 
found  him  they  would  not  listen.  In  their  youth  they  listen 
not — not  to  the  Saviour,  not  to  Goethe.  They  will — they 
must — make  their  way  alone  through  the  fearsome  loveli- 
nesses of  that  ruddy,  fairy  forest  beyond  which  is  the  Holy- 
land.  And  if  Kai  Jans  was  alone,  unguided,  because  he 
would  accept  no  guidance,  in  the  depths  of  his  inner  life, 
he  had  good  instruction  in  all  the  knowledge  and  wisdom  of 
the  world.  Yes,  indeed ;  yes,  he  learnt  to  know  the  variety 
of  human  life  and  the  strangeness  of  the  human  heart. 

Every  afternoon,  as  soon  as  he  got  out  of  school,  he 
went  straight  to  Kassen  Wedderkop  and  sat  opposite 
him  at  the  dinner  table.  First  over  the  meal,  and  after- 
wards over  the  newspaper,  Kassen  talked  away,  groaning 
at  intervals,  in  his  Korean  voice,  about  all  the  doings 
of  the  big  world;  and  he  talked  no  longer  to  the  "  green- 


126  HOLYLAND 

horn,"  the  "stupid  boy";  now  it  was  his  intelligent 
young  friend.  Nor  did  he  now  say  "  That's  it, 
and  everything  else  is  nonsense,"  but  ;<  That  hap- 
pened to  me  while  I  was  in  a  situation  in  Berlin," 
or  "  When  I  was  in  the  office  in  Hongkong  I 
got  to  know  a  man,"  or  "  From  my  experiences 

in  East  Africa,  we  Germans but  things  are  said 

to  have  changed  since  my  time  " ;  or  "  Every  Sunday 

while  I  was  in  London  I  went  to  church  and  saw " 

"  Just  listen,  Kai,  to  the  Chicago  quotations  for  corn  and 

meat !  "  or  "  They  believe  in  Japan I  should  very 

much  like  to  know  the  opinion  of  an  intelligent  Jap  on 
our  dogmas !  Listen  to  this  article  in  the  Times  on 

Japanese  religion.  It  seems  to  me  quite  correct "; 

"  What  a  blessing  that  you  know  English,  and  have  four 
years  at  sea  behind  you.  Even  if  you  haven't  found 
Hilligenlei,  you  donkey,  it  is  possible  to  talk  sense  to 
you." 

Yes,  that  was  something  like  instruction.  He  began 
to  see  the  rush  and  ebb  of  life.  He  was  the  son  of 
Thomas  Jans,  the  navvy,  and  he  lived  in  the  long  house 
at  Hilligenlei. 

In  these  years  life  got  rather  smoother  and  more  easy 
there.  The  two  elder  sisters  went  to  America  with  their 
husbands — the  youngest  married  a  decent  artisan.  The 
youngest  boy,  a  simple,  straightforward  fellow,  was  ap- 
prenticed to  a  good,  hard-working  plumber. 

There  was  a  calm,  even  cheerful  expression  in  Thomas 
Jans'  clever,  weather-beaten  face  now  that  he  had  only 
his  wife  and  himself  to  provide  for,  and  his  son  was  able 
to  learn,  and  learning  so  that  his  head  swam  with  it. 
He  used  to  sit  in  a  corner  at  the  meetings  of  the  Labour 
Party,  which  had  grown  so  that  they  filled  Reimer's  big 
room,  and  listen.  Occasionally  someone  would  make  a 
thrust  at  him,  but  he  never  spoke.  They  were  very  ex- 
treme in  those  days.  They  all  laughed  when  the  word 
religion  was  mentioned.  When  he  came  home  he  would 
take  down  his  Bible  and  hunt  out  the  passages  that  spoke 
of  great  times  to  come,  and  he  rejoiced  and  believed.  He 
did  not  speak  of  these  matters  with  his  son. 

They  spoke  together  a  great  deal  about  human  destiny. 
After  supper,  or  after  tea  on  Sunday  afternoons,  he  would 
lean  back,  thinking  and  drumming  on  the  window-sill  with 


HOLYLAND  127 

his  fingers,  as  his  habit  was ;  then,  as  if  moved  by  the 
sound  or  the  action,  he  would  begin  to  talk  about  some- 
one whom  he  had  met  in  the  course  of  his  life,  speaking 
of  his  parents  and  grandparents,  of  his  character,  and 
how  he  had  changed,  the  events  which  had  influenced 
his  life,  and  the  issue  of  human  life  in  general.  Thus 
Kai  heard  many  a  life  history,  and  much  quiet  native 
wisdom,  as  he  listened  with  silent  interest. 

Mala  Jans  had  grown  smaller  since  the  day  her  son 
went  to  sea,  and  his  return  as  a  cripple.  One  could  hardly 
believe  that  this  thin,  dainty  little  slip  of  mother  had  such 
a  tall  son.  She  was  very  proud  of  her  clever,  brooding, 
mocking  husband  and  her  serious,  silent  son,  and  even 
almost  satisfied,  now,  with  his  face.  From  her  girlhood  she 
had  spent  Sunday  afternoon  in  reading  the  stories  in  the 
newspaper  about  beautiful  highborn  lords  and  ladies,  who 
always  addressed  each  other  politely,  even  after  marriage, 
and  whose  children  all  had  high  foreheads  and  aristocratic 
eyes  and  noses.  She  had  often  looked  secretly  at  her 
son  and  found  his  forehead  too  low,  his  nose  too  broad, 
his  eyes  too  small.  After  he  went  to  the  grammar  school, 
however,  she  asked  no  more  of  his  face,  but  rejoiced 
secretly  in  its  strength  and  the  slim  uprightness  of  his 
carriage.  Their  silver  wedding-day  came  when  he  was 
in  the  upper  sixth,  and  Thomas  bought  her  a  dress 
the  first  time  since  their  marriage — bought  it  by  himself 
in  Siider  Street,  and  paid  ready  money  for  it.  This  Sunday 
afternoon,  while  father  and  son  discussed  human  destiny, 
she  sat  opposite  to  them  at  the  table  by  the  other  window, 
reading  about  lords  and  ladies,  in  her  new  dress. 

There  were  others  who  helped  him,  too.  Yes,  it  was 
instruction  indeed — his.  Sometimes,  when  he  came  out 
of  the  little  blue  room  where  his  bed  and  writing-table 
were,  through  the  dark  little  kitchen  into  the  sitting-room, 
he  found  Stiena  Dusenschon  with  his  mother.  His  mother 
was  a  proud  and  clever  little  woman,  who  mingled  sym- 
pathy with  her  friendly  amusement  at  Stiena 's  vague  in- 
consequence. She  now  complained  of  Rieke  Thomson. 
There  was  no  being  on  good  terms  with  her — and  this 
although  she  and  Rieke  used  to  drink  seven  cups  of  tea 
together  every  day ;  and  as  for  Tjark — Tjark  never  came  to 
Hilligenlei  to  see  her,  and  would  not  let  her  go  to  Hamburg 
to  see  him ;  but  he  did  write  sometimes,  and  at  Christmas 


128  HOLYLAND 

he  had  sent  her  a  piepe  of  money  and  a  beautiful  black 
skirt,  silk  one  way,  and  had  written  she  was  not  to  spend 
her  whole  life  darning  other  people's  stockings.  He 
would  do  something  for  her  some  day.  "  Now  he  is  head 
assistant,  with  five  people  under  him.  Tjark — yes,  he 
will  get  on."  She  talked  away,  her  knitting  needles  click- 
ing the  while,  and  her  bonnet  strings  and  the  fringe  on 
her  mantle  dancing  to  some  sweet  far-away  melody. 

Sometimes,  when  he  was  jumping  over  the  fence  to  go 
out  to  the  sea  wall  for  the  fresh  air,  Rieke  Thomson  would 
throw  open  her  window  and  talk  away.  ' '  Well,  old  Lau 
has  bought  a  second  smack,  and  he  is  really  bringing 
maize  and  barley  from  Hamburg  to  sell  to  the  farmers. 
Pe  Ontjes  is  going  to  give  up  the  sea,  and  then  they 
will  increase  the  business.  It  will  be  a  grand  concern. 
The  old  man  can't  write,  and  Pe  Ontjes  is  a  stiff  creature. 
Have  you  heard?  Stiena  says  Tjark  has  twenty  clerks 
under  him.  I  don't  believe  a  word  of  it.  He  will  come 
to  no  good — I've  always  said  so.  Jeff  Buhmann  is  the 
only  creature  who  believes  in  him.  By  the  bye,  have  you 
heard  a  sound  or  even  a  spark  come  out  of  the  smithy 
this  last  month?  He  squats  all  day  in  the  meadow, 
frightening  the  fish  with  his  great  leather  apron.  Tell 
your  mother  to  come  and  see  me.  I'm  a  poor,  deserted 
old  female.  Look  !  there's  Triena  Soht.  Her  mouth  is 
always  full  of  gossip.  Do  you  see?  She's  got  her  pipe 
in  the  front  of  her  dress.  I  have  to  stand  her  tobacco  !  " 

'"'Indeed!"  said  he.  "I  am  just  going  along  the 
wall." 

"  It's  all  very  well,  your  learning  and  learning,"  she 
continued.  "You'll  never  make  up  the  four  years  you 
wasted  at  sea.  Your  parents  spoil  you,  Kai.  You  may 
be  very  glad  if  you  get  through  the  school.  I  have  always 
said  so." 

Sometimes,  when  he  came  out  of  school  in  the  after- 
noons, he  went  through  the  chestnut  avenue.  If  he  saw 
Anna's  fair  head  at  the  window  he  went  in  and  spoke  to 
her  mother,  sitting  at  the  machine,  then  sat  down  oppo- 
site to  Anna,  playing  with  her  reels  and  scissors,  and 
talking  in  a  sensible,  manly  way  while  he  gazed  at  her. 
She  answered  composedly,  looking  at  him  with  complete 
indifference  in  her  clear  eyes,  then  out  of  the  window,  as 
if  expecting  something  pleasant  to  pass  by. 


HOLYLAND  129 

Ever  since  passing  her  twentieth  birthday  she  had  felt 
a  secret,  uneasy  astonishment  that  no  one  came  and  de- 
sired her  love,  and  her  uneasiness  grew.  He  saw  nothing. 
To  him  she  was  what  she  seemed — all  beautiful,  calm 
peace.  Nor  did  he  see  that  little  Heinke,  sitting  at  the 
table  with  her  lessons,  would  often  raise  her  head  and  fix 
her  clear,  grey,  child's  eyes  upon  him,  seeking  him  as  the 
carrier  bird  seeks  its  goal. 

When  he  was  in  the  upper  sixth  he  founded  a  club 
called  "  Truth."  As  the  oldest  and  most  experienced,  he 
soon  became  president.  Naturally,  they  chose  for  dis- 
cussion the  most  difficult  subjects  in  the  world,  with  which 
they  were  least  fitted  to  cope — religion,  politics,  character 
— handling  them  from  a  lofty  and  enthusiastic  point  of 
view  as  radicals  competent  to  pronounce  judgment.  Oc- 
casionally, indeed,  being,  after  all,  thoughtful,  genuine 
young  fellows,  the  judgments  they  passed  disturbed  their 
consciences.  This  was  most  of  all  the  case  with  Kai  Jans, 
and  he  used  to  express  his  doubts  and  go  into  the  question 
again  with  rather  more  reverence.  Still,  in  this  last  year 
he  certainly  became  a  trifle  arrogant.  He  forgot  what 
he  had  seen  so  clearly  four  years  ago,  that  Torril  Torril- 
sen,  with  his  big,  knotted  hands — Torril,  who  could  not 
write,  and  whose  only  reading  was  the  Trondhjem  hymn 
books  and  the  Bible — was  a  far  wiser,  a  far  more  worthy 
man  than  any  of  the  teachers.  He  forgot  that  altogether. 
His  knowledge  and  his  talents  made  him  arrogant.  His 
voice  used  to  ring  out  at  the  club  loud  and  clear  as  a 
victorious  blast.  "  Behold,  I  know  Hilligenlei,  the  Holy- 
land.  I,  Kai  Jans !  I  shall  find  the  meaning  of  the 
world."  In  his  eyes  it  shone.  "Wait  and  see  what 
Kai  Jans  will  become  !  " 

He  said  to  his  mother  with  an  air  of  great  wisdom,  "  I 
don't  like  father's  going  to  the  workmen's  meetings,  and, 
mother,  what  about  his  reading  the  Bible?  No  one  can 
understand  the  Bible  without  a  long,  special  training.  His 
reading  is  simply  absurd." 

Mala  Jans  bit  her  lips  in  silence,  deeply  pained.  She 
looked  at  him  almost  with  hatred  in  her  eyes,  and  said  with 
an  assurance  very  unusual  with  her,  "  Leave  him  alone, 
I  tell  you.  Don't  speak  of  that  to  him." 

His  arrogance  did  not  last  more  than  a  year.  With  the 
spring  came  reflection.  His  sharpness  gave  place  to  a 


i3o  HOLYLAND 

gentler  and  more  generous  temper  as  his  dreaming  eyes 
began  to  look  beyond  the  leaving  examination  to  the 
beginning  of  student  days.  Age  did  its  share.  He  was 
now  past  two-and-twenty.  Anyhow,  a  change  of  which 
fie  was  unconscious  was  taking  place  in  him. 

To  be  a  student !  to  be  free  !  to  live  in  a  strange  town 
— that  was  life,  and  life  was  the  thing  !  What  was  the 
use,  after  all,  of  all  this  thinking — this  narrow,  petty 
round  ?  How  beautifully  Anna  Boje  walked  ! 

So  when  midsummer  eve  came  he  let  the  people  go  past 
him  to  the  bonfires  as  he  waited  in  the  dark  road  for  her 
coming.  She  came,  arm  in  arm  with  Anna  Martens,  who 
was  living  at  that  time  with  the  Bojes  in  Hilligenlei  to 
learn  fine  sewing.  She  was  a  pretty  girl,  as  tall  as 
Anna,  but  dark,  and  more  stoutly  built.  All  day  long  she 
sewed  away  diligently,  laughing  at  her  work — laughing 
so  incessantly  that  it  infected  all  the  other  girls  at  the 
tailoress's — laughter  that  seemed  to  arise  without  any 
cause.  In  the  evening,  however,  she  became  serious,  and 
would  say  to  Anna,  "  I  am  going  up  to  the  dyke  to  gaze 
across  the  bay  and  see  if  I  can  bewitch  him  to  come 
across  this  evening."  And  sometimes  she  succeeded, 
for,  as  he  said,  he  was  already  in  bed,  when  heigh  ho  ! 
he  had  to  get  up,  jump  on  to  his  horse,  and  gallop 
round  the  bay.  He  stood  with  her  under  the  apple 
tree  in  front  of  Anna  Boje's  window,  and  Anna  could 
hear  the  sound  of  whispering  and  kisses.  Afterwards 
she  became  his  happy  wife,  and  bewitched  him  all  his 
life  long. 

"  Do  you  see?  "  she  said;  "there  is  Kai  Jans  in  the 
shadow  of  the  trees.  He  will  go  with  you,  and  I  will  turn 
back. ' '  She  wanted  to  try  her  witchcraft  again. 

So  they  went  on  alone,  up  the  three  paths.  He 
walked  by  her  side  :  or  sometimes,  when  the  path  got 
narrow,  behind  her,  feasting  his  eyes  on  the  outline  of 
her  figure  dimly  visible  in  the  gloom.  They  spoke  very 
little,  for  what  was  the  use  of  words  when  each  was 
thirsting  for  action?  Moreover,  his  youth  and  innocence 
made  him  too  nervous  to  address  her. 

When  they  reached  the  summit  they  looked  about  them, 
far  and  wide.  On  every  side  they  could  see  across  the 
country,  see  the  bonfires  in  a  great  semi-circle. 

There  to  the  south-west  was  the  Friestadt  fire.     Time 


HOLYLAND  131 

was  when  Anna  herself  had  helped  to  light  it.  With  burn- 
ing peats  for  torches  they  had  lit  the  fire,  and  then  jumped 
round  about  it. 

There  to  the  north,  across  the  marshes,  was  the  Hemme 
fire,  the  big  wooden  belfry  rising  up  big  and  black 
behind  it.  Every  year  the  parson  used  to  send  a  ton  of 
fuel  and  help  to  build  up  the  fire  with  his  own  hands. 

Far  away  in  the  west,  slightly  southwards,  there  gleamed 
a  faint  blaze,  built  by  the  shepherd,  who  lived  alone  with 
his  sheep  on  his  island  in  the  midst  of  the  grey  shallows, 
built  out  of  dried  sea-grasses  and  driftwood.  By  his  side 
stood  his  bright-eyed  dog.  Further  off,  the  sheep  stared 
stupidly  out  of  the  darkness  into  the  glowing  blaze. 

On  midsummer  eve  countless  fires  burned  all  round  the 
town  of  Hilligenlei.  For  a  thousand  years  or  more  they 
have  burned  there,  so  that  the  night  encircles  the  town 
like  a  dark  belt  set  with  three  burning  jewels. 

One  belongs  to  the  west  quarter — that  burning  up  on  the 
dyke.  The  young  brigands  who  make  it  think  it  no  crime 
to  steal  for  the  bonfire,  and  it  is  none.  The  children  claim 
for  the  fire  everything  that  is  neither  nailed  nor  hung  up, 
everything  that  neither  grows  out  of  the  earth  nor  is  fixed 
there.  Ten  years  ago  it  was  bigger  than  now.  When  Pe 
Ontjes  Lau  was  ringleader,  then  indeed  the  flames  rose  to 
heaven,  and  the  angels  had  to  tuck  up  their  feet !  But  it's 
still  a  grand  sight. 

The  second,  belonging  to  the  north,  stands  where  the 
open  fields  extend  for  seven  miles  as  flat  as  a  table.  The 
children  could  make  a  splendid  fire  if  it  were  not  that  they 
are  at  feud  among  themselves  and  quarrel  like  cats. 
They  are  a  big,  sturdy  set.  Only  think !  There  are 
six  Wittes,  seven  Suhres,  and  nine  Hanses.  But 
their  bonfire  suffers  from  their  quarrelsomeness.  Twice 
some  cankered  enemy  of  the  people  had  kindled  their 
fuel  the  night  before,  so  that  it  burned  away  while  they 
slept,  and  since  then  they  had  to  set  watchers  to  guard 
the  fire,  who  gave  summary  chastisement  to  anyone  who 
drew  near,  without  waiting  to  judge  or  identify  the 
person. 

The  third  fire  was  up  on  the  heights  where  Kai  Jans 
and  Anna  Boje  stood  together.  There  on  the  height  the 
grammar  school  boys  had  made  their  fire,  from  time  im- 
memorial, among  the  barrows  of  their  Pagan  ancestors, 

K  2 


132  HOLYLAND 

with  only  two  interruptions.  Once,  five  hundred  years 
ago,  the  Canon  had  forbidden  it,  fearing  a  return  to 
Paganism.  His  fear  was  not  wholly  unfounded.  Thode 
Witt,  a  cross-grained  old  greybeard  from  Volkmersdorf, 
a  village  just  below  the  summit,  had  put  a  horse's  skull 
into  the  fire  and  then  stared  into  the  blaze  as  if  he  could 
see  a  thousand  years  into  the  past.  Only  forty  years 
ago  it  had  been  forbidden  by  the  headmaster  and  the 
mayor,  on  the  plea  that  it  was  out  of  date — that  mid- 
summer bonfires  were  out  of  date  !  May  they  sleep  sound 
in  their  graves,  those  who  are  not  out  of  date  ! 

Anna  Boje  stood  at  a  little  distance  watching  the  blaz- 
ing fire,  the  little  grammar-school  boys  jumping  round  it 
like  so  many  imps  of  darkness,  the  dreaming  faces  of 
the  elder  boys  lit  up  by  the  beautiful  illumination.  There 
were  many  graceful,  youthful  figures  among  them.  Anna 
stood  in  the  shadow  regarding  them  with  her  clear,  calm 
eyes,  thinking,  as  she  had  thought  so  often  in  the  last  year, 
How  is  it  possible  that  in  all  Hilligenlei  not  a  single  man 
cares  for  you?  And  suppose  anyone  did  care,  would  you 
take  him?  She  did  not  know  of  one. 

"  Anna,"  said  Kai,  his  voice  quivering,  "  I  wanted  to 
ask  you  whether  you " 

"  What?  "    She  looked  at  him  with  calm  curiosity. 

"  I  want  to  know "  she  could  hear  his  breath  come 

and  go — "  I  want  to  know,  can  you  care  for  me,  a  little?  " 

For  awhile  astonishment  kept  her  silent.  Then  she 
said,  calmly,  "  You  have  always  been  a  friend  to  us  all. 
I  care  for  you  in  that  way." 

"That  isn't  what  I  mean,"  he  said.  "  Do  you  know 
Thedeus,  in  the  highest  form,  is  secretly  engaged?  Anna, 
I  know  I  am  a  restless  creature — restless  always,  and 
unhappy — and  I  don't  know  the  right  thing  to  do;  but 
if  you  only  really  cared  for  me,  oh  !  you  are  so  beautiful, 
so  pure  !  then  you  would  see  how  faithful,  how  devoted,  I 
could  be." 

Anna  shrugged  her  shoulders.  "  The  girl  who  is  en- 
gaged to  Thedeus  must  be  a  very  different  creature  from 
me,"  she  said,  in  her  calm,  clear  voice.  "No!"  She 
shook  her  fair  head  decidedly.  ' '  No !  that  is  not  for 
me.  You  are  far  too  young — not  the  right  man  for  me 
at  all.  And  to  have  to  wait  five  or  eight  years  !  No  ! 
I  tell  you,  No  !  I  had  rather  die !  " 


HOLYLAND  133 

He  was  crushed  by  the  consciousness  of  having  made 
a  grave  mistake.  "  Oh  !  "  he  said  in  a  low  voice,  biting 
his  lips.  "  Is  there  someone  else — someone  older?  " 

Her  proud  face  darkened.  "Who  will  marry  me? 
Some  families  do  not  know  me  because  I  am  the  daughter 
of  a  poor  teacher's  widow.  The  others  think  me  arro- 
gant. I  do  not  belong  to  anyone,  except  Anna  Martens 
from  Friestadt,  whom  I  have  known  since  we  were  chil- 
dren. As  for  the  young  men — there  are  very  few  real 
men  here.  Look  !  do  you  call  those  men?  " 

Two  teachers  came  past.  One  was  a  valetudinarian, 
the  other  a  mollycoddle.  They  stood  silent  for  some  time. 
Then  she  said  indifferently,  "Go  to  your  friends.  I  am 
going  home. ' ' 

"  Oh  !  "  he  cried  with  passionate  bitterness,  "  I  love 
you.  I  have  loved  you  ever  since  I  was  a  child.  You 
shall  see  there  is  something  in  me ;  I  shall  make  some- 
thing of  my  life;  but  you — you  repulse  me  so." 

"I  cannot  help  it,"  she  said,  and,  turning  from  him, 
went  down  the  path. 

For  a  week  Kai  Jans  went  about  with  folded  lips  and 
sombre  eyes.  People  asked  him  whether  he  was  ill,  and 
Jeff  came  out  into  the  street  to  say  to  him,  "  The  best 
thing  for  toothache  is  to  burn  it  out  with  a  sharp,  red-hot 
nail."  He  meant  never  to  enter  the  house  under  the 
chestnuts  again. 

One  day,  however,  when  he  had  not  been  there  for 
a  fortnight,  Heinke,  grown  into  a  tall  girl,  came 
up  and  said  to  him  in  her  shy,  winning  way,  "  Kai, 
please  help  me.  I've  got  such  a  dreadful  exercise  to  do." 

He  could  not  resist  this  confiding  appeal.  He  went,  and 
was  glad  to  be  in  the  cosy  little  room  again  with  the 
busy  click  of  the  machine — inside,  the  graceful  movements 
of  the  girls'  pretty  hands,  and  the  light  of  their  fair 
heads ;  outside,  the  big  chestnuts  casting  a  ruddy  light — 
and  so  he  came  again ;  but  Anna  was  seldom  there.  She 
used  to  find  something  to  do  in  the  kitchen  or  in  her  own 
room,  and  leave  Kai  alone  with  her  mother  and  Heinke. 
He  had  long  talks  with  the  child  about  her  work  at  school 
and  about  Pete.  He  lent  her  books  and  played  cards 
with  her  and  Hett,  and  he  grew  to  be  very  fond  of  her, 
attracted  by  her  shy,  spontaneous  devotion  to  him. 


i34  HOLYLAND 

Passing  once,  he  met  her  in  the  street,  and,  seeing  that 
she  had  been  crying,  asked  her  what  the  matter  was. 
She  began  to  sob,  and  told  him  her  mother  had  scolded 
her  severely  for  taking  Hett's  book,  although  he  had 
beforehand  given  her  express  permission  to  use  it.  It 
was  always  so.  He  lied,  but  mother  believed  him. 

"Mother  doesn't  love  me  at  all,"  she  sobbed.  "  She 
says  1  do  everything  wrong,  and  am  always  stiff  and 
horrid." 

"  How  does  she  come  to  say  that?  " 

"  Well,  Hett  is  always  saying  '  Dear,  darling  mamma  ' 
twenty  times  a  day — that's  what  I  ought  to  do,  but  I 
can't." 

"  How,  can't?" 

"  I  don't  know.  I  can  think  it,  but  not  say  it.  I  am 
not  really  stiff,  but  I  shall  get  so,"  she  sobbed  piteously. 

He  comforted  her.  "  You  will  soon  be  grown  up,  and 
then  you  will  go  away,  and  afterwards  marry  some 
splendid,  clever  man." 

"  I  haven't  ever  told  anyone,  only  you,  because  you 
have  been  so  good  to  me,  and  say  now  that  I  shall  marry. 
I  wish  it  would  come  soon.  I  can't  get  on  at  all  with 
mother  and  Hett." 

He  was  touched  by  her  affectionate  confidence.  "  We 
shall  always  be  friends.  Let  us  shake  hands  upon  it." 

' '  Ah !  you  are  always  good  to  me.  You  are  the  only 
one  who  is."  Her  eyes  sparkling  with  tears  as  she 
looked  seriously  up  at  him,  she  shook  his  hand,  and  then 
ran  off  into  the  house. 

His  offer  of  friendship  was  genuinely  meant,  but 
the  tall,  fair  child  hardly  knew  what  she  was  doing. 
She  used  to  go  out  into  the  fields  these  summer 
months  and  pick  a  spray  here  and  a  flower  there 
on  the  paths  and  along  the  hedgerows,  making  them,  with 
exquisite,  natural  taste,  into  a  nosegay  as  she  went  along, 
wondering  what  to  do  with  it,  and  dreaming  of  how  she 
should  manage  to  give  it  to  Kai  Jans.  She  sank  on  her 
knees  by  the  wall,  regarding  the  nosegay  and  picturing 
to  herself  his  expression,  his  beautiful,  true  eyes  :  hearing 
the  sound  of  his  voice.  She  got  up  and  went  on,  still 
lost  in  thought.  On  her  way  home  through  the  meadows 
she  became  first  thoughtful  and  then  gradually  sad,  till 
finally,  sitting  down  on  the  last  stile,  she  picked  out  one 


HOLYLAND  135 

flower  after  another  and  threw  them  into  the  water,  and 
so  went  silently  home. 

Kai  Jans  talked  much  with  her,  and  enjoyed  their  inter- 
course together;  but  his  thoughts  were  with  her  elder 
sister.  "  Where  is  Anna?  " 

"  Away  !  "  said  Heinke. 

"Where?" 

"  At  the  tailoress's,  with  Anna  Martens.  She  is  learn- 
ing dressmaking,  you  know." 

"Where  is  Anna?" 

"Away!  " 

"  Where?  This  is  not  the  time  for  her  lessons, 
surely." 

"  She  is  playing  hide-and-seek  in  the  lane  with  the 
children." 

What  was  Anna  doing  in  the  lane? 

This  year  her  life  seemed  yet  more  and  more  desolate. 
One  day  followed  after  another  unmarked  by  any  great 
event.  Her  soul  was  already  becoming  disturbed  and  em- 
bittered— yet  Anna  had  her  joy — a  great,  deep,  secret  joy. 

This  last  year,  every  afternoon,  as  she  worked  in 
the  kitchen,  she  heard  a  little  voice  pipe  out  like. a  little 
sparrow,  "  Antje  Boje?  " 

Then  she  would  step  out,  with  her  graceful,  swing- 
ing movements,  into  the  garden  in  her  big  cooking- 
apron.  There  they  were,  the  two  children,  in  the 
waterway,  and  their  father  behind.  The  mother  was 
always  too  sickly  to  come  out  with  them.  Anna 
bent  to  talk  to  the  children,  and  as  she  did  so 
"knack"  went  her  knees.  Whereupon  they  all  three 
laughed.  Then  the  elder  child  would  say,  while  she  held 
the  younger  in  her  arms,  "What  have  you  had  for 
dinner?"  "Where  have  you  been?"  "Do  you  like 
my  dress?"  "Just  look  at  my  stockings!"  And  the 
little  one  would  stroke  her  hair  and  catch  hold  of  her  ear 
and  say,  "  Ei !  ei !  what  a  white  ear  you've  got !  and  what 
shining  hair  !  Mother's  hair  doesn't  shine.  And  what  a 
red  mouth  !  "  And  then,  pursing  up  its  lips,  it  kissed 
her.  And  Anna — proud,  silent  Anna — stroked  the  child 
and  pressed  it  to  her  breast  with  words  of  love.  Then 
she  would  get  up  and  look  up,  all  confusion,  into  the 
clever,  kindly  face  of  the  man,  and  exchange  a  few  words 
with  him.  At  last,  saying  "I  must  go  back  to  my  work," 


136  HOLYLAND 

she  would  press  the  children's  hands  and  be  gone,  turning 
round  under  the  apple  tree  to  nod  to  them.  What  a 
beautiful  picture  it  was  to  see  her  standing  with  her  fair 
hair  and  haughty  figure  under  the  white  blossoms  or 
the  ripe  fruit  on  the  tree  ! 

What  was  Anna  doing  in  the  lane?  This — this  was 
her  pure,  secret  joy.  But  now,  this  summer — this  summer 
it  was  rather  different — it  was  misery,  it  was  bliss. 

"  Mother  cares  nothing  for  me.  Heinke  is  still  a  child. 
Hett  thinks  of  no  one  but  himself.  Pete  is  far  away. 
What  am  I  to  do  with  my  life?  Crete  Deeken  married  at 
nineteen,  Lisbeth  Thaden  at  twenty.  I  am  twenty-two, 
and  he  does  not  come.  I  am  deserted.  Oh  !  if  only  he 
were  single — he  who  talks  to  me  in  the  lane.  He  would 
want  my  love.  Oh  !  how  good  he  is.  How  clever.  What 
dear  eyes." 

She  had  known  him  since  she  was  a  child. 

Was  there  no  young  man  in  Hilligenlei,  then,  with 
eyes  to  see  that  the  most  beautiful  thing  in  all  the  country- 
side was  this  glorious,  youthful  strength,  this  hidden 
intelligence?  To  take  her  by  the  hand  and  rejoice  in  the 
beauty  of  her  body  and  of  her  transparent  soul,  which 
should  bring  up  a  race  of  strong  and  healthy  children  to 
cope  with  the  evil  of  the  world  ? 

Oh  the  young  men  of  Hilligenlei !  One  is  diseased  from 
a  youth  of  dissipation;  he  should  be  a  man  but  he  drags 
himself  along  the  sea  wall,  gasping  for  breath.  Two 
others,  healthy-minded  young  fellows  enough,  tramp  about 
the  country  with  great  sticks  in  their  hands  and  their  eyes 
bent  on  the  road,  learning  to  talk  pompously  about  the 
management  of  the  State  at  an  age  when  a  man  cannot 
see  beyond  the  eyes  of  a  girl  and  his  work. 

Other  young  folk  of  the  middle  classes  get  behind 
their  father's  counter  as  soon  as  they  come  back 
from  service,  and  sit  at  their  father's  desk,  and 
cast  about  them  for  a  wife  with  money-bags,  by 
which  means  they  win  a  helpmeet,  who,  thinking 
more  of  her  portion  than  her  person,  keeps  por- 
tion and  keys  under  her  own  control  to  prevent  her  spouse 
from  doing  anything  reckless.  So  they  sit,  in  their  poky 
little  shops  in  the  poky  little  streets,  with  a  view  bounded 
by  their  neighbour's  wall,  where  they  never  hear  the  fresh 


HOLYLAND  137 

wind  blow  or  realise  that  a  clean,  strong  man  of  good 
courage  is  worth  more  than  ten  thousand  pounds. 

Others,  when  their  work  is  finished,  go  and  sit  over 
their  beer  with  the  married  men  of  the  club.  The  old 
men  tell  coarse  stories  and  corrupt  the  young,  until  they 
are  too  cowardly,  too  corrupt,  for  marriage  and  all  that 
it  involves. 

No  man  thought  of  Anna  Boje. 

When  she  went  past  they  would  say,  "  That's  a  fine  girl. 
Look  how  she  walks  !  " 

Whereupon  the  others  retorted,  "  Don't  waste  time  in 
looking  at  her.  She  hasn't  got  a  penny,  and  she's  wait- 
ing for  a  prince  !  " 

Such  are  the  young  folk  of  Hilligenlei,  and  therefore, 
at  two-and-twenty,  Anna  Boje's  pure  soul  is  tortured  by 
a  thought  from  which  no  inward  struggles  avail  to  set 
her  free.  ' '  Oh  !  if  he  were  single  !  and  loved  me  !  oh  ! 
what  bliss  that  would  be  !  " 

Kai  Jans  was  far  too  young  for  her.  Once  he  found 
her  alone  in  the  kitchen.  He  went  close  up  to  her  and 
implored  her,  "  Anna — Anna,  give  me  one  kiss — once — 
only  once  in  my  life." 

She  stepped  back  in  anger.  "  I  ask  you  to  leave  me 
alone,"  she  said.  "  I  do  not  care  for  such  jests.  If  you 
say  anything  of  the  sort  again,  Kai,  our  friendship  is  at  an 
end." 

One  evening  a  few  days  later  she  was  going  into  the 
garden  to  bring  in  some  washing  which  she  had  put  out 
to  bleach,  and  saw  him  standing  in  the  lane  with  a  tall, 
pretty  farm  girl,  the  child  of  degraded  parents,  and  herself 
a  wanton. 

When  h«a  came  two  days  afterwards  her  scorn  blazed 
out.  "  That's  the  company  you  choose  !  You,  who  have 
always  talked  so  grandly  about  Hilligenlei  !  Did  you 
go  out  into  the  world  to  look  for  it,  and  now  come  back 
to  go  with  her  !  " 

He  was  angry  in  his  turn.  "It's  your  fault,"  he 
cried  ;  "  yes,  yours.  If  you  only  loved  me,  I  could  believe 
in  Hilligenlei  still ;  but  now — 

She  was  astonished.  "That's  very  fine!  It's  my 
fault,  indeed  !  I  will  tell  you  something — the  fault  is 
in  you  yourself,  Kai  Jans." 


CHAPTER    XII 

AT  the  end  of  August  Kai  Jans  passed  his  leaving  ex- 
amination. Three  days  later  he  came  up  chestnut  avenue 
to  say  goodbye.  Anne  gave  him  her  hand  with  perfect 
composure.  Heinke  gave  his  a  quick,  hard  squeeze  and 
ran  out  of  the  room  to  cry.  Kassen  Wedderkop  was  to 
go  with  him  to  Hamburg,  then  he  was  to  go  on  to  Heidel- 
berg alone. 

In  the  evening  of  the  same  day  came  a  letter  from  Pete, 
from  Hamburg.  "Anna  is  to  come."  He  had  always 
promised  she  should  see  Hamburg  one  day,  and  he  should 
pay  for  her.  Now  he  was  keeping  his  word. 

Happy  in  his  thought  of  her,  and  in  this  break  in  the 
endless  monotony  of  her  existence,  she  surprised  the  two 
travellers  by  appearing  at  the  station  early  next  morning 
and  accompanying  them.  She  had  never  been  out  of 
Hilligenlei  before,  and  gazed  in  dumb  astonishment  out 
of  the  window  as  they  passed  through  the  huge  town  in 
the  train. 

Pete  was  at  the  station.  It  was  astonishing  to 
see  him  there.  She  had  always  seen  him  in  Hilli- 
genlei before,  and  now  there  he  stood,  in  this  strange 
place,  among  strange  people,  and  glanced  sharply  at  her 
and  nodded.  He  had  always  been  like  that  from  his 
childish  days,  and  that  was  what  she  so  loved  in  him — 
that  manly  determination. 

"Well,"  said  Kassen  Wedderkop,  "you  be  off  and 
show  Anna  Hamburg,  but  meet  me  this  evening  at  seven 
in  the  coffee-room  of  the  '  Imperial '  at  Altona.  Sit  so 
that  you  can  see  into  the  bar.  I  shall  bring  two  friends 
who  were  with  me  in  the  East — both  natives  of  Hilli- 
genlei. Off  with  you  !  " 

They  put  Anna  between  them  and  went  down  to  the 


HOLYLAND  .  139 

Jungfernstieg.  He  showed  her  the  post-office  and  the 
monument,  and  the  huge  banks  and  hotels  along  the 
Alster;  then  they  went  across  the  market  down  to  the 
harbour  where  they  took  steamer. 

Her  first  excess  of  astonishment  soon  wore  off. 
She  looked  at  everything  with  calm,  rather  wonder- 
ing eyes,  as  much  as  to  say,  "  What  is  all  this  to  me? 
What  have  all  these  people,  all  these  buildings,  to 
do  with  me?  If  there  was  only  one  person  who 
belonged  to  me!"  Now  and  then,  when  she  could  do 
so  unobserved,  she  looked  sideways  at  her  brother  and 
thought  of  her  childhood,  till  her  heart  warmed  to  him, 
and  she  grieved  that  he  was  always  so  cool  and  curt 
towards  her,  as  she  thought,  "  Kai  Jans  is  not  nearly 
so  self-confident." 

He  in  his  turn  looked  at  her  unobserved,  and  thought, 
' '  What  a  change  !  She  stood  bare-footed  on  the  shore  in 
a  frock  that  only  just  reached  down  to  her  knees,  and 
she  had  cut  her  little  foot  on  a  mussel-shell,  so  that  it 
bled.  Now  she  is  a  big,  handsome  girl !  " 

Kai  Jans  looked  straight  in  front  of  him,  searching  for 
the  Gude  Wife  among  the  forest  of  masts. 

On  board  the  Gude  Wife  steam  was  puffing,  chains 
rattling,  voices  shouting.  Kai  Jans  went  fore  to  see  the 
fo'c'sle  and  the  men,  but  Pete  and  Anna  went  aft.  In 
answer  to  her  whispered  question,  he  showed  her  where 
he  stood  when  he  was  on  duty,  and  she  stood  there  gazing 
over  the  big  ship  and  up  into  the  topmasts,  trying  to  see, 
with  the  help  of  pictures  she  remembered,  what  her 
brother  saw  in  times  of  sunshine  or  of  storm.  She  took 
hold  of  his  hand  gently,  without  looking  at  him,  and  then 
followed  him  down  the  companion.  "  This  is  where  I 
live,  do  you  see?  " 

"  Dear  me  !  "  she  cried  in  genuine  surprise,  "  what  a 
tiny  place !  " 

He  laughed. 

"  Well,  remember,  the  great  Pe  Ontjes  had  this  room 
when  he  was  second." 

"  Where  is  he  now?  "  she  asked  indifferently. 

"To-day  he  is  in  Hamburg.  To-morrow  he's  going 
over  with  the  men  to  Glasgow  to  his  ship.  He  means  to 
do  two  voyages  on  it  and  then  come  home  to  Hilligenlei 
and  see  if  his  father's  business  can  be  expanded." 


i4o  HOLYLAND 

"  Oh !  "  She  had  already  heard  as  much  in  Hilli- 
genlei. 

"Weren't  you  surprised,"  he  said,  "at  my  getting  a 
second  mate's  berth  so  soon  and  on  such  a  good  ship?  " 

"  Yes,  indeed.  You  can't  think  how  delighted  mother 
and  all  of  us  were." 

"  Well,  there's  something  more  for  you  to  tell  her!  " 
After  some  rummaging  in  his  locker  he  produced  a  Ship- 
building Journal,  and,  after  showing  her  the  title,  opened 
it.  "Look  here!"  She  read:  "The  Employment  of 
Steam  Engines  or  Motors  on  Large  Sailing  Vessels,"  and 
underneath,  "  By  Pete  Boje." 

Pressing  her  hand  to  her  breast,  she  looked  at  him  with 
sparkling  eyes.  "  Oh,  Pete!  "  she  said. 

"  I  can  tell  you,"  said  he,  "I  had  a  lot  of  trouble  over 
it.  Not  the  matter,  you  know — that  I  saw  plainly  enough 
— but  expressing  it.  That  was  my  difficulty.  One  is 
never  sure  if  one  Hasn't  been  to  a  high  school.  Well,  I 
got  the  post  on  that,  you  see.  And  at  the  same  time  I 
showed  this  model,  this  one  here,  to  our  owner.  Of 
course,  you  can't  understand  it,  but  it  shows  how  the 
carrying  capacity  can  be  increased.  That's  it !  Eyes 
open,  ready,  aye,  ready,  forwards  !  That's  the  thing, 
and  I  am  like  that." 

"  What  started  you  on  such  ideas  originally?  " 

"  Oh  !  that  was  the  old  boy  on  the  Clara — do  you  re- 
member? He  put  me  on  the  track." 

"  What  has  happened  to  him?  " 

"  They  said  he  died  in  hospital  in  Lisbon." 

He  spread  the  newspaper  out  once  more,  laughing  hap- 
pily. "  It  was  great  fun  doing  it,  I  can  tell  you,"  he 
said,  putting  it  away  again. 

Anna  leant  across  the  table  to  look  at  the  pictures  nailed 
against  the  wall.  How  strange  to  see,  in  this  unfamiliar 
little  room,  a  picture  of  their  parents  taken  soon  after 
their  marriage,  and  the  picture  of  Heinke  and  Hett  taken 
when  they  were  ten.  And  there  was  her  picture,  at 
eighteen,  her  eyes  full  of  confusion  because  the  photo- 
grapher, a  young  man,  had  accidentally  touched  her  hair 
in  putting  her  head  in  the  position  he  wanted.  Who  was 
that  next  to  her,  with  a  short,  fair  beard?  Recognising  Pe 
Ontjes  Lau,  she  gave  a  sharp,  suspicious  look  at  the 
picture  and  turned  away. 


HOLYLAND  141 

When  she  had  seen  everything  and  admired  the  cabin, 
they  all  three  left  the  ship  and  spent  the  day  in  going 
about — along  the  Alster,  to  the  picture  galleries,  up  and 
down  the  principal  streets. 

Towards  evening  they  were  sitting,  it  being  warm 
enough,  under  the  glass  roof  in  front  of  the  Alster  pavilion, 
when  who  should  come  up  but  a  tall,  elegant  gentleman 
with  a  round,  beardless  face  and  large  eyes  shining  with 
friendliness.  In  a  word,  Tjark  Dusenschon.  He  bowed  to 
Anna,  tall  hat  in  hand,  and  said  with  a  kind  of  friendliness, 
"  With  your  permission,  ladies  and  gentlemen,  I  will  sit 
near  you.  I  generally  take  a  cup  of  coffee  here,"  he  said, 
"  when  business  goes  well,  and  as  that  fortunately  occurs 
frequently,  I  frequently  take  coffee  here." 

The  waiter  came  hurrying  up  and  took  his  overcoat, 
his  white  silk  scarf,  and  his  silver-mounted  cane.  He 
seated  himself  comfortably  beside  them.  "  I  recognised 
you  on  your  entrance  because  I  recognised  Pete." 

"  Why  do  you  never  come  to  Hilligenlei,"  said  Anna, 
in  a  voice  of  suppressed  anger,  "  when  your  grandmother 
lives  there?  " 

Tjark  looked  at  her  calmly  and  said,  "  I  have  no  neces- 
sity to  go  there,  Miss  Boje,  and  my  grandmother  earns 
her  living  by  her  work.  Why  should  I  go  to  Hilligenlei? 
It  is  not  as  if  there  were  any  business  to  be  done  there, 
and  I  have  no  time  to  make  excursions  merely  for  plea- 
sure." 

"  What  are  you  doing  now,  then?  "  asked  Kai  Jans. 

"  I  have  been  head  assistant  for  the  last  five  years.  At 
present  I  am  with  a  money-dealer. ' ' 

He  looked  at  them  all  in  turn,  just  as  he  had  done  once 
in  Jeff's  smithy. 

"  A  money-dealer,"  said  Anna.  "  What  in  the  world's 
that?  " 

"  I  will  explain  to  you  shortly,  Miss  Boje,"  said  Tjark, 
politely  turning  to  her.  "There  are  people  who  need 
money  for  some  undertaking  or  other,  and  there  are  other 
people  who  have  money  which  they  wish  to  employ.  Well, 
they  don't  know  of  one  another,  do  you  see?  My  business 
is  to  bring  them  together.  Waiter  !  For  example,  if  the 
waiter  wants  to  jset  up  a  hotel,  but  has  no  capital  of  his 
own,  I  can  very  possibly  supply  him  with  it.  A  cup  of 
black,  please,  waiter." 


i42  HOLYLAND 

The  Hilligenlei  children  stared.  Old  Stiena  Dusenschon 
stood  in  front  of  the  long  house,  with  her  bonnet  strings 
flying,  and  told  wonderful  stories  of  Tjark — Tj-a-a-rk — 
and  behold !  it  was  all  true !  How  elegantly  he  was 
dressed,  and  what  an  air  of  ease  and  respectability  there 
was  about  him  ! 

"  And  you,  Kai !     What  are  you  doing?  " 

"I'm  going  first  to  Heidelberg  and  then  Berlin  to  study 
theology  and  modern  languages." 

"Theology!  I'm  glad  of  that,"  said  Tjark,  thought- 
fully. "The  masses  need  clergymen;  they  are  their 
natural  leaders.  You,  as  a  workman's  son,  will  under- 
stand the  people.  And  you,  Miss  Boje  !  Are  you  still 
at  home?  " 

"  There  is  enough  to  do  there,"  said  Anna. 

"  If  you  should  ever  think  of  a  situation  in  Hamburg, 
please  write  to  me.  I  have  connections  with  several  very 
good  families,  and  could  probably  secure  you  something 
suitable." 

"  I  should  rather  like  to  go  now,"  said  Anna.  "  I  have 
been  walking  about  all  day,  and  should  be  glad  to  rest  a 
little. ' ' 

"  I  shall  remain  here  for  a  while,"  said  Tjark,  getting  up 
and  politely  helping  Anna  on  with  her  jacket. 

"  I  cannot  bear  that  man,"  said  Anna  when  they  were 
on  their  way.  "  Everything  about  him  is  false,  from  his 
round,  shining  face  and  his  worldly  wisdom  upwards." 

Pete  and  Kai  were  silent.     Tjark  had  impressed  them. 

By  eight  o'clock  they  were  at  the  Imperial  Hotel  in 
Altona,  and,  asking  rather  shyly  for  the  coffee-room,  they 
sat  down.  When  the  waiter  came  up  they  ordered  a  bottle 
of  wine,  for  the  first  time  in  their  lives.  Pete  ordered 
it,  and  none  of  them  ever  forgot  the  occasion — a  bottle 
of  the  lightest  Moselle.  They  then  ventured  to  look  about 
them.  They  became  more  sure  of  themselves,  and  began 
to  feel  comfortable  when  they  saw  that  the  groups  at  the 
other  tables  were  continuing  their  usual  conversation. 
Anna  soon  observed  a  solitary  guest  sitting  sideways  at 
a  little  table  with  a  bottle  of  claret  in  front  of  him,  who 
kept  looking  across  to  them  without  moving.  His  dress, 
of  dark-grey  cloth,  seemed  to  indicate  that  he  belonged 
to  the  well-to-do  tradesman  class ;  there  was  nothing  re- 
markable about  his  broad  head  or  the  fat,  white  hands 


HOLYLAND  143 

folded  together  on  the  table ;  and  yet  there  was  something 
about  him  that  made  her  anxious  to  see  his  face  more  dis- 
tinctly. 

She  forced  herself  to  look  away,  only  to  look  again-  after 
a  brief  space  of  time. 

He  was  looking  with  a  dull,  fixed  stare  at  them 
from  under  his  heavy,  pendulous  eyelids.  She  be- 
came uncomfortable,  and  turning  right  away,  leaned 
against  the  table.  Kai  Jans,  having  cast  a  cheer- 
ful glance  round  the  room,  now  turned  to  her  with 
lifted  glass.  At  that  moment  he  caught  sight  of 
the  stranger  behind  her  with  an  immediate  sensation 
of  discomfort.  He  turned  so  as  not  to  see  him  any  longer, 
and  drawing  a  deep  breath,  said,  "  Now,  over  the  Elbe 
and  out  into  the  world  !  ' '  With  a  friendly  nod  to  the  other 
two,  he  drank. 

At  that  moment  Kassen  Wedderkop  appeared,  limping 
slightly,  but  in  a  good  humour  for  all  that,  and  behind 
him  his  two  friends — a  short  man  with  red  hair,  and  a 
tall  man  with  fair  hair,  all  three  portly,  comfortable-look- 
ing men  about  fifty. 

"Hallo!"  said  the  little  red-haired  man.  "Are  we 
to  sit  with  these  young  folk?  " 

"You  behave!"  said  Kassen  Wedderkop.  "It's 
a  long  time  since  you  sat  with  anyone  so  young  and 
charming.  Look  at  Anna  Boje.  Have  you  had  a  good 
day,  child?  " 

The  tall  fair-haired  man  sat  down  next  to  Anna. 

Fresh  wine  was  put  on  the  table. 

"  Have  I  ever  told  you,"  he  said  to  Wedderkop,  "  how 
I  spent  a  week  with  a  beautiful  young  girl?  A  long  time 
ago.  It's  a  story  that  goes  with  wine,  and  one  that  can 
be  told  in  a  young  lady's  presence. " 

He  looked  at  Anna  with  an  expression  of  friendly  polite- 
ness. 

"  Would  you  like  to  hear  it?  You  two  old 
fellow-travellers  know  that  I  spent  my  childhood  in 
Hilligenlei,  my  boyhood  in  Itzehoe.  There  were  two 
of  us — my  brother  and  myself;  we  had  no  sister.  We 
never  left  the  town.  We  shared  the  society  of  our  parents 
— very  stiff,  very  respectable,  for  our  parents  were  very 
proper  in  their  views.  We  only  knew  young  girls  so  far 
as  dancing  with  them  in  black  coats  and  white  gloves  at 


144  HOLYLAND 

balls,  or  bowing  politely  when  we  passed  them  in  the 
streets.  We  were  like  our  parents.  We  went  on  in  this 
way  until  I  was  twenty-seven  and  my  brother  twenty-five. 
He  also  was  in  business. 

"  One  day,  out  of  sheer  boredom  and  idle  curiosity,  my 
brother  made  a  little  expedition  to  visit  a  distant  cousin  of 
ours — a  clergyman — who  lived  under  a  thatched  roof  in  a 
remote  country  village  in  our  district.  Just  as  he  had  sat 
down  to  tea  between  his  cousin  and  his  wife  in  came  a 
tall,  beautiful  girl,  the  daughter  of  a  neighbouring  land- 
owner, who  was  staying  with  them  at  the  time.  After  tea 
he  seized  the  opportunity  of  walking  in  the  garden  with 
her  for  an  hour. 

"  A  week  later  he  went  again.  A  fortnight  later  they 
met  secretly  for  the  third  time.  Then  they  were  engaged, 
and  soon  afterwards  she  came  to  stay  with  us  at  home 
for  a  week. 

"  This  week  was  the  most  beautiful  and  memorable 
time  in  my  whole  life.  In  those  days  we  two  good,  stupid 
young  men  learnt  to  know  something  the  very  existence 
of  which  we  had  not  suspected — something  more  wonder- 
ful than  we  had  dreamed  that  the  world  contained — 
for  we  learned  in  those  days  to  know  a  beautiful 
young  girl,  sound  in  mind  and  body,  as  innocent,  as 
natural  as  if  only  created  yesterday  by  the  hand  of  God. 
We  had  learned  in  school  the  different  kinds  of  rhinoceros 
that  are  to  be  found  in  Africa.  We  had  learned  what  an 
opera  was,  the  meaning  of  foreign  trade,  and  how  to  open 
an  oyster.  But  this  was  a  creature  such  as  we  had  never 
come  across.  We  had  no  knowledge  of  it,  subjective  or 
objective.  Now,  suddenly,  we  learnt  to  know  it. 

"  I  can  give  you  no  idea  of  how  wonderful  it  all  was — 
how  unspeakably  happy  that  -week  was  for  us.  My  brother 
and  I  were  lost  in  wonder  at  this  piece  of  creation.  It 
was  summer.  She  lay,  in  all  her  beauty,  on  the  grass  in 
our  garden,  clad  in  a  loose  garment,  my  brother  at  her 
head,  and  I  at  her  feet.  For  you  must  remember  that 
it  never  occurred  to  me  to  torture  myself,  because  her 
young  beauty  and  purity  did  not  belong  to  me.  No;  my 
heart  was  full  of  nothing  but  joy.  I  rejoiced  in  her  as 
in  a  beautiful  sister  who  had  just  come  to  me.  And  it 
was  not  that  I  had  never  seen  beauty  before.  There  were 
many  pretty  girls  in  the  neighbourhood.  No ;  the  wonder 


HOLYLAND  145 

of  it  all  was  the  exquisite  un-self-consciousness  with  which 
she  permitted  us  to  see  the  loveliness  of  her  body  and  her 
mind.  Every  movement  of  her  limbs,  every  word  that  she 
uttered,  roused  my  admiration.  She  moved  with  the  grace 
with  which  a  younger,  tender  wood  bends  and  sways  under 
the  breath  of  the  rustling  wind.  Her  words  were  the 
speech  of  a  blossoming  lime  tree.  Our  eyes  followed 
every  movement  of  her  lips. 

"The  week  passed  by.  I  had  to  go  to  Hamburg,  and 
soon  afterwards  to  China."  He  looked  thoughtfully  into 
his  glass.  "  Whether  that  week  has  kept  me  always 
single,  I  don't  know.  It  was  the  most  beautiful  time  in 
my  life,  that  I  do  know. " 

Taking  up  his  glass  and  turning  to  Anna  Boje,  he  pledged 
her,  "  It  is  your  fault  that  I  told  the  story." 

The  others  bowed  to  her.  Kai  Jans  looked  at  the 
delicate  flush  on  her  face,  and  thought,  "  How  beautiful 
she  is!  " 

Kassen  Wedderkop  refilled  their  glasses,  and  for  a 
time  they  sat  chatting  and  looking  at  the  people  sitting 
at  the  tables  or  going  to  and  fro.  Anna  turned  to  Pete 
and  said  to  him  in  a  low  voice,  "  Look  at  the  stout  man  in 
grey  behind  me — rather  to  the  side."  Pete  leaned  so  as 
to  look  past  his  sister,  and  saw  the  man  still  sitting 
behind  his  bottle  of  claret.  There  was  something  un- 
natural in  his  stolid  immobility  and  the  fixed  stare  of  his 
goggle  eyes,  still  directed  to  their  table,  which  suggested 
that  his  mind  was  elsewhere — something  of  the  uncanny 
feeling  of  an  empty  house.  Pete  turned  quickly  away. 
"  One  of  the  claret-bibbing  Hamburg  Philistines,  the  sort 
that  lets  other  people  do  the  working  and  thinking  for 
them.  What  does  he  matter  to  us?  " 

Wedderkop  turned  to  the  short,  red-haired  man. 
"There's  something  I  want  to  ask  you  about.  Do  you 
remember  the  voyage  we  three  went  together  from  Vladi- 
vostock  to  San  Francisco  on  the  Russian  steamer?  I 
never  experienced  anything  like  it  in  my  life.  We  held 
on  our  course,  driving,  day  after  day,  through  grey  waves 
that  were  like  mountains,  through  the  icy,  driving  mist, 
through  snowstorms  that  raged  from  morning  until  night, 
on,  though  the  engines  were  rotten,  and  there  was  no 
navigation  worth  the  name  and  no  look-out  of  any  sort. 
We  three,  the  only  Germans  among  a  pack  of  Russians, 

L 


U6  HOLYLAND 

drinking-  and  cursing  in  front  of  their  icons.  We  two, 
that  tall  fellow  there  and  myself,  were  in  a  tremendous 
state  of  mind,  for  we  seemed  at  any  moment  likely  to  be 
charging-  down  the  Milky  Way  into  eternity.  But  you 
seemed  quite  detached.  What  was  it?  " 

The  little  man  looked  thoughtfully  at  his  friend  out  of 
his  intelligent  eyes,  and  then  jovially  towards  Anna,  and 
began  :  "  I,  too,  can  tell  a  story  that  goes  well  with  wine 
and  is  fit  for  a  pretty  girl  to  hear.  As  you  know,  I  was 
born  in  the  parsonage  at  Hilligenlei.  The  house  is  just 
the  same  as  it  was  then.  My  father  was  rather  a  stiff, 
narrow-minded  man — too  busy  to  trouble  much  about  his 
children.  My  mother — I  do  not  like  to  speak  of  it  before 
others,  and  I  do  not  know  how  far  she  was  to  blame  and 
how  far  my, father;  but  however  that  may  be — she  ran 
away.  She  is  dead  now.  We  children  had  a  hard  time — 
father  cold  and  hard,  mother  always  with  bitter  words  on 
her  lips.  Then  afterwards  only  father.  The  result  was 
that  when  we  came  to  be  confirmed,  I,  the  parson's  son, 
scoffed  at  the  words  my  father  spoke  from  the  pulpit  more 
bitterly  than  any  of  the  others.  I  was  just  the  same  when 
I  was  an  apprentice  in  Hamburg — a  sophisticated  cynic. 
A  few  years  later,  when  I  was  two-and-twenty,  I  went  to 
Hongkong. 

"  I  had  been  there  about  two  years  when  I  was  intro- 
duced to  a  young  married  couple.  He  was  English, 
she  the  daughter  of  a  Hamburg  merchant.  She  must  have 
been  about  thirty  at  the  time,  blooming  with  the  health  and 
happiness  of  wife  and  mother,  and  she  soon  saw  how  dis- 
torted and  unnatural  my  point  of  view  was.  Pitying  me 
she  began  to  help  me.  Her  understanding  was  marvellous. 
She  used  to  let  me  prate  and  criticise,  and  mock  and 
almost  acquiesce,  but  whenever  I  cast  anything  down  in 
the  mud  and  trampled  on  it  she  used  to  pick  it  up  and 
put  it  away  in  some  clean  place,  just  like  a  mother  care- 
fully putting  away  a  stiff,  old-fashioned  dress  which  has 
been  the  grandmother's  pride.  And  so  my  hardness  was 
gradually  melted. 

"  Although  she  was  still  quite  young,  she  had  been  all 
over  the  world  with  her  husband.  She  had  seen 
Catholicism  in  its  severest  form  in  South  America.  She 
had  stood  by  the  sick-bed  of  a  heathen  sage  in  Japan. 
She  had  a  Catholic  friend  in  Hongkong  who  had  none 


HOLYLAND  147 

but  Latin  books  upon  his  shelves,  and  she  had  read 
widely.  She  knew  Plato  and  Marcus  Aurelius,  and,  above 
all,  Goethe.  She  never  attacked  anything  or  anyone. 
She  was  always  ready  to  yield.  But  from  her  quiet  and 
gentle  talk  I  came  to  see  the  humble  reverence  for  that 
mysterious  power  that  transcends  human  comprehension 
which  formed  the  sacred  basis  of  her  soul;  and,  as  I 
saw,  my  nature  became  purified  of  the  falsehood  that  had 
penetrated  it,  and  developed  into  a  quiet  sincerity. 

"  Of  course,  I  fell  desperately  in  love  with  her,  and 
thought  I  could  not  live  apart  from  her — so  good,  so  beau- 
tiful, so  clever.  One  day  I  realised  that  if  I  were  not  to 
be  ruined  I  must  go.  I  went. 

"  My  going  was  made  a  little  easier  by  a  secret  hope. 
When  I  was  at  their  home  I  used,  with  her  permission,  to 
look  at  the  pictures  about  the  rooms,  and  among  them  I 
kept  coming  upon  one  of  her  younger  sister,  who  was 
twenty-one,  and  very  like  her,  and  lived  in  Hamburg  with 
her  parents.  So,  I  thought,  '  I  shall  go  to  Hamburg  and 
marry  the  sister,  her  double. ' 

"  I  got  leave  of  absence,  came  to  Hamburg,  visited  the 
parents  with  messages  from  their  daughter,  and  saw  her 
sister.  She  was  just  like  my  beloved*— exactly  like  in 
appearance,  with  the  same  friendly  gaiety  in  her  brown 
eyes.  She  was  clever,  too,  and  knew  Marcus  Aurelius 
and  Goethe,  and  she  was  kind  to  me.  But  something  was 
wanting.  Her  soul  had  not  the  depths,  the  still  blue 
depths,  the  reverence  for  the  eternal  mysteries.  She  could 
jest  at  religion." 

He  gazed  thoughtfully  in  front  of  him. 

"  I  could  not  marry  her,"  he  said.  "  My  thoughts  went 
back  to  the  other,  living  in  happiness  in  Hongkong. 
They  still  go  there.  Those  two  years  in  Hongkong  were 
the  happiest  of  my  life." 

Raising  his  head,  he  looked  at  Anna. 

"  It's  your  fault  that  I  told  this  story.  Those  dear, 
calm  eyes  of  yours  say,  '  Tell  something  true. '  They 
remind  me  of  her  eyes,  though  yours  are  light — they  ask 
for  truth." 

Raising  his  glass,  he  drank  to  her. 

When  they  had  all  drunk,  they  sat  thoughtful  for  a 
time.  The  ruddy  light  shone  down  on  their  heads.  Round 
them  blue  smoke  lay  wreathed.  Anna's  hair  shone  bright. 

L   3 


148  HOLYLAND 

The  pale-faced  waiter  looked  at  the  pleasant  little  party, 
watching  the  movements  of  the  second  old  man's  grey 
head. 

The  stranger  sat  still  in  his  place,  his  glass  in  front  of 
him  and  his  hands  folded  round  it,  staring  with  his  expres- 
sionless, round  grey  eyes  at  the  old  and  young  children 
from  Hilligenlei. 

They  ordered  more  wine,  and  drank  gaily.  Kai  Jans, 
with  his  father's  roguish  look  in  his  eyes,  looked  at  Anna. 
"  Our  healths,  Anna  !  I  shall  come  home  in  May  !  " 

Anna  looked  at  him  with  friendly  eyes  and  laughed. 

Then  the  tall  man,  who  had  sat  at  the  foot  of  the 
farmer's  daughter  in  the  Itzehoe  garden  while  his  brother 
sat  at  her  head,  said,  "Your  story,  Wedderkop,  took 
place  not  far  from  here,  I  know,  on  the  other  side  of  the 
Alster.  " 

"  I  don't  think  you  know  much  about  it,"  said  Kassen, 
"  but  I  do  not  mind  telling  you.  It's  short  enough,  and, 
like  the  others,  it  goes  with  wine,  and  will  do  for  a  girl 
to  hear. 

"  That  time,  when  I  came  home  with  you  two  from 
San  Francisco,  though  only  a  simple  youth,  I  suc- 
ceeded in  gaining  the  good  opinion  of  one  of  the  most 
prominent  business  men.  I  got  to  know  him  in  my  chief's 
office,  and  pleased  him  so  much  that  I  was  invited  to  his 
fine  house  on  the  other  side  of  the  Alster,  where  I  spent 
five  happy  weeks. 

"  He  was  an  excellent  man  of  business,  and  still  has  a 
high  reputation,  but  with  all  his  keen  sense  for  business 
and  business  advantage,  he  never  lost  sight  of  the  inner 
ideal  side  of  the  profession  of  a  merchant.  Of  those  men 
of  business  who  regarded  the  making  of  .money,  and  yet 
more  money,  as  the  sole  aim  of  life,  he  spoke  with  a  bitter 
yet  reasoned  scorn,  rising  to  lofty  enthusiasm  in  his 
description  of  the  kingdom  of  the  true  merchant,  whose 
aim  is  to  see  that  nothing  is  lost  or  wasted  in  the  world, 
But  everything  distributed  to  the  best  advantage  all  over 
its  surface,  and  put  at  the  service  of  those  who  fight 
against  the  evils  and  increase  the  joys  of  life.  Many 
an  hour  would  he  spend  walking  up  and  down  his  garden 
with  me  suggesting  thoughts  to  me  which  deepened  my 
nature  and  widened  my  outlook  upon  life.  And  when  we 
walked  thus  his  youngest  daughter  nearly  always  came  with 


HOLYLAND  149 

us.  If  by  any  chance  she  was  not  there  he  would  call  her. 
Whether  he  brought  us  together  with  any  secret  intention 
I  don't  know.  I  do  know  that  he  was  fond  of  me.  Any- 
how, she  was  young  and  beautiful,  and  wore  her  simple, 
elegant  dress  as  a  young  birch  its  leafy  crown.  The 
garden  was  full  of  glorious  flowers  and  trees,  the  house  as 
full  of  valuable  old  possessions  as  it  was  of  goodness. 
And  so  five  weeks  went  by. 

"Then  the  lady  of  the  house  came  home  from  a  visit 
to  her  married  children.  She  was  quite  unlike  her  hus- 
band and  her  youngest  child.  Before  them  she  did  not 
show  her  true  self,  but  she  was  an  arrogant,  ambitious 
woman.  She  did  not  like  me,  and  saw  that  I  did  not  come 
again. 

"  So  I  went  back  to  China  and  stayed  fifteen  years  there. 
Why  I  remained  single  I  hardly  know.  Was  it  because 
I  thought  of  the  beautiful  child  in  the  simple,  elegant 
dress,  with  whom  I  had  walked  in  the  lovely  garden  by 
the  side  of  that  good,  gifted  man?  I  don't  know.  Cer- 
tainly, I  felt  I  must  not  fall  below  that  ideal. 

"  After  I  had  been  away  for  fifteen  years  I  was  hit  by 
a  Korean  bullet  up-country.  I  returned  to  Hamburg,  and 
after  depositing  my  little  capital  with  some  friends,  retired 
to  Hilligenlei.  Now  I  busy  myself  with  the  thoughts  of 
which  he  spoke  to  me  in  that  beautiful,  sunny  garden — 
thoughts  of  the  great,  royal  merchant — and  even  now  the 
thing  that  gives  me  the  greatest  pleasure  of  all  others  is 
any  little  mark  of  recognition  which  he  sends  me.  He 
is  an  old  man  now.  I  know  nothing  of  his  child." 

Lifting  his  glass  to  Anna  Boje,  he  pledged  her. 

"  Well,"  said  the  tall  man,  "  I  should  now  like  to 
know  what  youth  thinks  of  the  three  old  bachelors  !  " 

"Fire  away,  Pete,"  said  Wedderkop.  "Give  us  your 
opinion  !  " 

"  You  are  like  sailors,  all  three,"  said  Pete,  laughing. 
"  Going  to  sea  and  going  to  China  comes  to  the  same 
thing.  If  you  had  stayed  in  Hamburg  you  would  have 
all  got  married. " 

This  judgment  annoyed  the  three,  and  they  refused  to 
accept  it,  saying,  "  He's  decrying  us !  It's  not  true. 
We  won't  drink  with  him  !  " 

"Now  then,  Anna!  Speak  your  mind  freely.  Have 
we  remained  single  without  any  reason  at  all?  " 


ISO  HOLYLAND 

"  It  seems  to  me,"  said  Anna,  graciously,  "that  you 
all  three  wanted  the  very  best,  and  remained  single 
because  you  were  unable  to  attain  it.  A  girl  can  under- 
stand and  respect  such  a  feeling.  Your  bachelordom  does 
you  all  three  credit." 

They  were  much  pleased,   and  toasted  her,   laughing. 

"Now,"  said  the  tall  man,  "  now  for  the  third.  I 
have  all  the  time  regarded  him  with  suspicion.  His  eyes 
are  too  deep-set  for  one  to  see  them.  Your  opinion, 
sir." 

"  I  agree  with  Anna  Boje,"  said  Kai  Jans,  his  eyes 
sparkling.  "You  all  wanted  something  pure,  something 
holy,  and  that  is  why  you  are  single.  You  were  right, 
because  so  you  have  kept  your  purity." 

The  three  looked  rather  shamefacedly  into  their  glasses. 
Then  the  tall  man  looked  up  and  said  seriously,  "  I  don't 
like  to  lead  the  young  into  such  an  error.  Once,  indeed, 
in  our  youth  we  have  seen  holiness  ;  but,  alas  !  that  has  not 
prevented  us  from  becoming  sinners  afterwards." 

Kai  Jans  shrank  back,  and  his  face  grew  deadly  pale. 
He  tried  to  rise.  As  he  did  so  the  stranger,  with  his 
dark,  empty  eyes  fixed  upon  him,  rose  also.  But  Kai 
sat  down  again,  and  stared  silently  at  the  table. 

"We  must  go,"  said  Wedderkop  in  a  depressed  tone. 
"  Shall  you  stay  a  little?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Pete,  calmly,  "we'll  wait  a  little." 

The  three  went  away. 

They  were  hardly  outside  when  Kai  smote  the  table 
with  his  hand,  and  cried  in  bitter  scorn,  "  Do  you  see? 
That's  how  it  is !  Hilligenlei,  indeed !  "  He  gave  a 
mocking  laugh. 

He  was  still  laughing  when  the  stranger  came  up  to 
their  table,  and,  sitting  down  opposite  to  him,  said  in  his 
dull  voice,  raising  his  eyes  heavily  to  his  face,  "  I  heard 
their  stories,  and  foresaw  how  it  would  all  turn  out." 

Anna  Boje  cast  a  quick,  timid  glance  at  him.  His  eyes 
were  dull  and  bleared,  like  the  eyes  of  a  fish.  Her  heart 
seemed  in  her  throat  with  fright.  She  tried  in  vain  to  turn 
to  Pete. 

Kai  Jans  leaned  forward  heavily.  "  I  am  the  sort 
of  person,  you  know,"  he  said,  "have  been  from  my 
childhood,  who  takes  everything  fearfully  seriously,  oh  ! 
so  seriously.  Yes;  don't  you  know,  once — I  really 


HOLYLAND  15i 

thought — why,  yes — once  I  went  all  through  the  world 
because — because  I  always  thought  that  somehow  the 

world  must  be  holy;  but  latterly "  he  laughed  again, 

a  mirthless  laugh.  "  Now  the  old  people  come  with  their 
stories,  and  they  must  know — they  are  old.  Oh  !  I  feel 
so  strange.  Yes,  I  believe  I  have  for  some  time  come  to 
the  conclusion  that  everything — everything  is  indifferent 
— nothing  matters.  Who  are  you,  pray?  " 

Anna  turned  anxiously  to  Pete,  and  said,  "Shall  we 
go?" 

' '  I  wanted  to  wait  a  little, ' '  said  Pete,  casting  a  quick 
glance  round  him. 

"  Who  for?  " 

"  I  met  Pe  Ontjes  yesterday,"  he  said  in  a  low  tone, 
"  and  told  him  you  were  coming,  and  he  promised  to 
come  at  a  certain  time.  He  hasn't  much  time.  But  I 
thought  he  would  have  been  here  by  now." 

"  I  could  have  told  you  he  wouldn't  come,"  she  said 
sharply. 

At  that  moment  Kai  Jans  sprang  to  his  feet  and  cried 
out,  smiting  the  table,  "  I  tell  you  what,  you  two  Bojes. 
You  seek  for  Hilligenlei.  Yes,  you  seek  for  it.  And  tell 
the  others — tell  big  Pe  Ontjes  Lau  and  little  Heinke — she 
will  be  more  beautiful  than  you  one  day,  Antje — and  tell 
Tjark  Dusenschon,  the  princely  fool !  Why  should  / 
always  torture  myself  !  Do  you  go  and  seek  for  Hilli- 
genlei. I  tell  you.  I  shall  look  out  for  some  other 
land." 

Anna  stood  up,  quite  pale.  "  Come,"  she  said.  "  He 
is  drunk.  How  awful !  Everyone  is  looking  at  us. 
Come,  Pete." 

The  stranger  stood  beside  Kai.  "  Walk  a  bit  of  the 
way  with  me,"  he  said. 

The  waiter  came  _and  helped  Anna  on  with  her  coat. 

"Who  is  that?"  said  Pete,  pointing  after  the  two 
going  towards  the  passage,  "  that  man  in  grey?  " 

"We  don't  know  who  he  is,"  said  the  waiter.  "  He 
comes  here  sometimes  and  drinks  claret,  and  always 
manages  to  make  up  to  some  party — generally  young 
people.  And  then  the  fun  is  always  at  an  end." 

He  looked  at  their  darkened  faces. 

"  The  rascal !  "  said  Pete.      "  I  wonder  who  he  is?  " 

Anna  sobbed,  anxious  and  ashamed.     "  Go  after  Kai 


152  HOUYLAND 

Jans  !  Oh  !  I  am  so  ashamed  of  having  been  seen  by 
everybody. ' ' 

"  Go  after  him  !  "  said  Pete,  scornfully.  "  No,  thank 
you.  He  may  go  where  he  pleases.  It  is  just  as  well 
that  his  folly  is  at  an  end  at  last.  Seek  for  Hilligenlei, 
indeed  !  The  creature  is  quite  off  his  head.  We  seek  for 
Hilligenlei,  forsooth  !  "  He  took  her  arm  and  went  on 
with  her,  leaving  her  at  her  hotel. 

Anna  went  upstairs,  undressed,  went  to  bed,  and 
dreamed  a  marvellous  dream. 

She  heard  her  name  called,  clear  and  shrill,  "  Anna 
Boje,"  and  knew  that  the  voice  of  God  was  calling  her. 
"Yes,  Lord?" 

"  Kai  Jans  has  begun  to  seek  for  Hilligenlei,"  said 
God,  "  and  now  you  must  seek  for  it.  You  know,  some- 
one in  your  town  must  seek  and  find  it." 

"  Oh,  Lord  God  !  "  she  said.  "  We  Bojes — we'll  never 
find  it,  and  Pe  Ontjes  Lau  hasn't  learnt  nearly  enough." 

"  What  I  am  to  do,  then?  "  said  God. 

"Oh,  Lord,"  she  said,  "you  can  be  quite  sure  that 
Kai  Jans  will  begin  to  look  for  it  again.  Do  you  suppose 
he  will  even  stay  for  a  year  with  that  staring,  grey  care- 
for-nothing?  He  will  soon  be  on  fire  again — he  is  like 
that.  And  if  he  begins  again  I  have  a  younger  sister 
called  Heinke,  more  beautiful  and  more  holy  than  I  am, 
who  will  help  him  to  find  it." 

God  raised  His  finger  and  said,  "  You  are  to  seek  for  it, 
too." 

She  shrank  back.  "  Lord,"  she  cried,  "  I  cannot.  I 
am  such  an  unhappy,  restless  mortal." 

God  spoke  seriously  to  her  and  disappeared. 

Next  morning  she  went  back  to  Hilligenlei,  troubled  and 
disturbed. 


CHAPTER   XIII 

AND  when  Anna  got  home  Heinke  told  her  that  the 
three  from  the  lane  had  gone  with  the  invalid  mother, 
who  was  to  undergo  a  prolonged  treatment  somewhere. 
The  return  of  the  others  depended  on  her  condition. 
Heinke  said  it  was  by  no  means  impossible  that  they 
would  give  up  their  house  here  and  go  south,  some- 
where on  the  Rhine,  on  her  account. 

Anna  pressed  her  red  lips  together.  "  Indeed!  "  she 
said. 

Now  she  was  quite  alone.  No  one  cared  for  her,  no 
one  asked  after  her,  no  one  troubled  about  her.  She 
would  gradually  wither  and  fade  away.  She  laughed  in 
wild  and  bitter  pain. 

Her  dumb  suffering  lasted  for  a  week.  Then  came  the 
ninth  of  September. 

As  long  as  she  lives  Anna  will  never  forget  that  hot, 
sunny  ninth  of  September,  not  though  she  lives  to  ninety, 
nor  think  that  any  sin  was  committed  on  that  day  by  her- 
self or  by  another.  Any  sin  there  was  has  indeed  been  ex- 
piated by  bitter  sorrow,  the  love  that  can  cover  a  multi- 
tude of  sins. 

On  the  ninth  of  September,  soon  after  midday,  a  quite 
unusual  time,  her  three  friends  stood  in  the  lane  and 
knocked  as  usual  at  the  gate.  Anna  was  standing  by 
the  grate,  but  she  heard,  and  came  running  out  at  once. 
Their  eyes  shone  with  pleasure  at  seeing  her  again,  and 
they  cried,  "  How  lovely  to  meet  again." 

His  eyes  glistened  with  joy.  He  looked  less  tired  than 
before,  when  he  used  to  work  hard  every  day.  Excessive 
happiness  made  her  more  confiding  than  she  had  ever  been ; 
it  seemed  to  unlock  her  heart. 

"You  dear,  silly  things,"  she  cried,  kneeling  down  in 
exquisite  confusion.  "  Knack  "  went  her  knees. 

Then  the  three  explained  that  in  eight  weeks  they  were 


154  HOLYLAND 

to  leave  Hilligenlei  and  go  south  to  the  mother;  but  as 
long  as  they  were  there  they  wanted  to  see  Anna  every  day 
— every  single  one;  and  would  she  go  to  the  wood  with 
them  this  afternoon?  "There's  an  open  space  there," 
said  the  littlest  one.  "  We'll  dance  there." 

"  You  must  put  on  very  few  clothes,"  said  the  elder 
child,  "because  it's  very  hot,  and  you  are  to  dance." 

It  was  a  hot,  breathless  day,  the  ninth  of  September. 

They  found  the  short-grass  plot  at  the  edge  of  the  wood, 
a  spot  of  sunshine  hidden  away  in  the  dark  cavernous 
circle  of  the  twenty-year-old  pine-trees.  There  she  danced 
on  the  short  turf,  first  with  the  little  child,  then  with  the 
bigger  one;  and  then  he  asked  her  to  dance  alone;  then 
to  stay  standing  as  she  was.  And  she  did  everything 
he  asked  her.  He  was  so  dear,  so  playful  with  his  chil- 
dren ;  he  asked  her  so  gently,  with  such  goodness  and 
happiness  in  his  eyes,  that  her  heart  beat  fast  under  his 
gaze. 

Suddenly  he  came  up  to  her  and  said  in  a  choking 
voice,  "  Do  you  know  that  I  can  see  your  dear  limbs 
through  your  dress?  " 

She  looked  at  him  in  painful  confusion.  "  It  was  so 
hot,"  she  said  piteously.  "  I  wanted  to  be  able  to  have 
a  good  romp  with  the  children. ' ' 

"  Do  you  know  you  are  the  most  beautiful  girl  in  the 
world?  " 

She  stepped  back  towards  the  pine-trees,  looking  at 
him  with  timid  entreaty  in  her  eyes. 

"  I  mustn't.     I  mustn't." 

He  didn't  listen.     He  knew  she  loved  him. 

"  You  have  loved  me  ever  since  your  childhood.  I  have 
seen  it  in  your  eyes." 

"  I  didn't  know,"  she  murmured.  "  I  never  knew  it, 
never.  I  never  thought  of  this." 

He  did  not  press  her;  he  only  spoke  of  his  great  joy. 
"Oh,  you!  you  are  so  brave,  so  noble.  You  are  three- 
and-twenty,  and  your  wonderful  soul  and  body  are  yours 
alone — how  wonderful,  you  don't  know.  You  dear,  beau- 
tiful woman."  He  seized  her  hands.  She  let  him  take 
both  hands,  looking  at  him  still  with  timid  entreaty  in  her 
eyes. 

"Oh!  "  she  said,  breathing  hard,  "never  shall  I  love 
anyone  as  I  love  you." 


HOLYLAND  155 

They  went  through  the  wood,  the  hot  sun  penetrating 
obliquely  through  the  trees,  the  children  in  front.  Her 
head  was  bent,  his  eyes  and  thoughts  were  all  for  her. 
When  they  came  to  the  quiet  house,  the  children  went 
into  the  garden  with  the  maid.  He  put  his  arm  round 
her  and  led  her  into  his  room.  She  turned  to  him  in 
sore  distress,  saying,  "  Dear,  tell  me  I  am  not  doing 
wrong — promise  me  that.  Oh  !  I  cannot  help  it — I  cannot 
help  it.  I  never  knew  before,  but  now  I  see.  For  a  long 
time  I  have  loved  you — more  than  anything  in  the  world. 
To  think  that  you — you  love  me  !  Now  I  know.  How 
I  have  longed  for  that.  Oh  !  I  have  been  so  terribly 
lonely.  Be  good  to  me,  help  me.  Oh  !  my  darling  !  " 

For  seven  weeks  the  glory  lasted — seven  weeks  of  joy. 
Unholy?  no;  holy.  Seven  weeks  in  the  wonderland  of 
faerie,  weeks  of  poignant  joy  and  sorrow.  For  seven 
weeks  Anna  Boje  was  a  happy,  unhappy  woman. 

She  did  not  ask  him,  "  Stay  with  me  and  let  the  other 
go."  She  did  not  say,  "  I  don't  know  how  I  am  to  live 
when  you  are  gone."  Had  she  asked  him  this,  he  would 
have  acquiesced,  for  the  wonder  of  it  was  as  great  for  him 
as  it  was  for  her. 

She  did  not  ask  him  to  do  it.  She  would  not  have 
accepted  it  had  he  offered.  She  could  not  have  purchased 
her  happiness  at  the  price  of  another's  misery.  She  knew 
the  day  would  come,  come  soon,  dark  and  terrible,  when 
all  her  glory  fell  in  ruins  around  her — the  holy,  ah  !  not  the 
unholy,  glory. 

At  this  time  her  mother  said  to  Heinke,  "  What  can 
have  come  over  Anna?  She  is  affectionate  with  us,  and 
talks  in  a  way  she  has  not  done  for  years." 

"Yes,"  said  Heinke.  "  I  have  noticed  it,  but  I  don't 
know  why  it  is." 

And  the  girls  whom  she  met  from  time  to  time  said  to 
one  another,  "What  has  come  over  Anna  Boje?  She  is 
so  gay  and  friendly,  and  how  pretty  she  is  !  " 

The  day  came. 

The  southern  physician  decided  that  the  wife  must  stay 
there  in  the  warm  valley.  The  North  Sea  air  was  too 
damp  and  strong  for  her — too  cold  and  salt. 

He  drew  a  deep  breath  and  looked  at  Anna.  "  Oh  !  the 
air  is  fresh  and  bracing  here,  and  you — you  are  so  dear,  so 
beautiful." 


156  HOLYLAND 

"  You  must  go,"  said  she,  tears  starting  to  her  eyes. 
' '  You  must  forget  me.  I  must  see  what  will  become  of 
me." 

She  got  the  children  ready  for  the  journey.  She  could 
see  the  despair  in  his  eyes  as  she  felt,  for  the  last  time, 
the  mad  fever  of  his  love.  She  saw  them  off  at  the 
station,  shook  him  by  the  hand,  and  said,  grinding  her 
teeth  together  :  ' '  Kind  regards  to  mother. ' ' 

Then  she  went  home  alone,  saying  to  herself  "  I  shall 
never  see  him  again." 

When  she  got  home  she  found  a  postcard  from  Kai 
Jans  with  a  brief  account  of  his  doings.  Across  the 
corner  in  small  letters  were  the  words  :  "  Have  you  found 
Hilligenlei?  I  have  discovered  something  very  like  it." 
Underneath  was  a  pair  of  eyes  drawn  in  blue  ink. 

"  How  funny  of  him  to  write  to  you,"  said  Heinke; 
"  he  has  always  written  to  me  before.  What  does  that 
mean  in  the  corner?  " 

"  I  expect  he's  in  love  with  someone  with  blue  eyes," 
said  Anna. 

Heinke  went  silently  out  into  the  garden  and  wept  under 
the  apple  tree. 

Hard  times  followed  for  the  little  house  under  the  chest- 
nuts. 

Pete  went  on  a  distant  voyage  to  Samoa,  and  his 
sister  did  not  know  or  share  his  hopes  and  plans.  Hett 
went  to  an  office  in  Kiel.  After  eight  weeks  there  he 
wrote  for  the  first  time  secretly  to  Anna,  asking  her  for 
money.  She  sent  him  thirty  shillings  from  her  savings. 
He  did  not  even  thank  her.  She  thought  "  The  lot  of  the 
elder  sister  already  !  Professor  Tenner's  three  daughters 
stayed  at  home  toiling  and  moiling  for  the  two  sons  : 
that's  how  it  will  be  !  " 

It  was  twenty-five  years  since  Hella  Boje  had  danced 
out  of  her  slippers  at  Ringerang's  dance  :  she  grew  gray 
and  matronly  now,  and  her  heart  hardened  as  she  grieved 
over  the  absence  of  her  two  darlings.  To  Anna,  who  had 
returned  to  her  old  reserve,  she  seldom  spoke  :  for  Heinke 
she  had  nothing  but  hard  words  :  she  was  obstinate,  in- 
dolent, unkind;  and  everything  she  did  only  seemed  to 
make  it  worse.  Heinke,  whose  only  faults  were  the 
silent  pride  inherited  from  her  mother  and  the  intellectual 
keenness  of  her  father,  wept  many  secret  tears,  drying 


HOLYLAND  157 

them  to  look  at  the  picture  postcards  which  Kai  Jans  sent 
her  from  Heidelberg  and  the  neighbourhood,  and  she  kept 
in  order  in  her  song-book. 

At  times  Anna  tried  to  pull  herself  together.  She  would 
try  to  make  a  dress  for  herself  or  her  sister,  but  the  long 
sitting  and  the  irritating  work  annoyed  her  so,  that  she 
ended  by  undoing  all  she  had  done  and  handing  it  over  to 
the  dressmaker.  In  the  evening  she  would  sometimes 
secretly  try  to  read  her  father's  books  up  in  her  own  room  ; 
but  the  lofty  pictures  they  conjured  up  did  not  thrill  her  : 
she  soon  let  the  book  fall,  unable  to  find  the  path  to  beauty, 
to  look  round  the  narrow  little  room,  fit  background  for 
her  empty  hopeless  life. 

In  the  winter  she  was  invited  to  a  girls'  party,  and 
forced  herself  to  go.  Things  went  merrily  enough.  The 
younger  girls,  up  to  about  eighteen,  among  whom  was 
Heinke,  sat  in  one  room,  telling  harmless  but  silly  stories, 
and  laughing  till  some  of  them  could  not  sit  upright.  The 
elder  girls,  ranging  up  to  eight-and-twenty,  sat  in  another 
room  :  they  soon  got  upon  the  subject  of  marriage.  Those 
over  five-and-twenty  did  most  of  the  talking,  while  the 
others  listened. 

"  To  be  married  to  a  nice  man — that's  the  best  there 
is." 

"  But  there  are  not  many  nice  men." 

They  began  to  discuss  the  possible  young  men,  speaking 
with  bitter  contempt  of  seven  or  eight  who  did  not  marry 
either  because  they  were  too  self-indulgent  and  lazy,  or 
because  they  were  incapable  of  it. 

One  girl  said  harshly  :  "  Young  men  now-a-days  are  all 
cripples.  Marriage  gets  more  and  more  uncommon." 

"  Well,"  said  another,  "  Frieda  got  married  only  the 
other  day.  .  .  and  Gertrud. " 

"  Yes,"  but  then  Frieda  had  five  hundred  pounds,  and 
Gertrud — well,  she  was  twenty-five,  you  know." 

"  Many  are  called  but  few  chosen." 

"  I  could  bear  not  being  married  if  it  was  because  I  was 
an  ugly  little  thing — but  simply  because  I  have  no  money 
bags  !  that  seems  to  me  a  scandal.  Think  of  Frieda  and 
her  five  hundred  pounds;  she's  a  perfect  skeleton  !  How 
could  anyone  want  to  sleep  with  her?  " 

"  Come,  you  are  going  rather  too  far." 

"What  of  that?      Don't  the   Socialists   say   that  the 


158  HOLYLAND 

accursed  property  system  is  coming  to  an  end?  If  people 
were  only  valued  for  strength  and  beauty  !  I  say,  Anna — 
then  you  would  get  a  prince  and  I  an  earl.  No  one  can 
deny  that  I  am  tall  and  strong,  or  that  my  nose  is  a  good 
shape,  and  my  hair  long  and  beautiful."  She  laughed, 
plunging  both  hands  into  her  fair  hair. 

"  After  all,  most  of  us  do  marry — far  the  most.  Some 
girls  don't  want  to  marry — it  does  not  appeal  to  them." 

One  of  the  girls  laughed — ' '  Children,  I  will  tell  you  a 
delicious  story — you  must  keep  it  quiet,  or  I  won't  tell  you 
a  word  more.  ...  A  few  weeks  ago  Lena  Bruhn  and  I 
went  to  Bindorf  :  coming  back  we  missed  our  train  and 
had  to  walk  back  to  Hilligenlei.  However,  on  the  way  we 
got  frightened,  and  went  into  Sothbier's  inn — you  know, 
an  old  man  with  the  two  daughters.  Well,  the  two  girls 
were  good  enough  to  give  us  their  rooms  and  go  and  sleep 
somewhere  else.  I  went  to  sleep — Lena  too;  but  about 
midnight  someone  knocked  at  my  window —  knocked  and 
knocked  :  and  then  a  voice  said  '  Why  won't  you  let  me 
in?  Why  not,  girl?  What  has  come  into  your  head  all 
at  once.  Let  me  in,  I  say  !  What's  the  matter — you've 
always  let  me ;  why  won't  you  now,  all  of  a  sudden?  '  .  .  . 
And  so  it  went  on  for  a  whole  hour;  and  it  happened  just 
the  same  to  Lena. 

Next  morning  early  we  went  into  the  kitchen.  The  two 
girls  were  standing  by  the  fire  making  the  coffee.  '  Tell 
me  one  thing, '  said  Lena ;  '  would  you  marry  if  you  could  ? 
Come  now?  '  They  looked  at  us  quite  shamefacedly  and 
said  '  We  don't  think  of  marrying — no.  I  don't  expect 
we  shall.'  Yes,  that's  how  it  is.  Of  course  I  want  to 
get  married — everyone  does." 

"  I  tell  you  what,"  said  another,  "  if  you  really  want  to 
get  married  you  must  look  like  the  daughter  of  the  Tonn- 
dorf  clerk  :  she  was  neither  pretty  nor  rich,  but  she  was 
sharp.  She  thought  '  If  I  stay  "  Miss  "  I  will  be  an  old 
maid.'  So  she  went  to  Hamburg  as  chambermaid  in  a 
very  smart  house  and  married  the  gardener.  Afterwards 
her  sister  got  a  baker  in  the  same  way,  and  she  has  six 
children,  and  they  live  on  the  rolls  that  are  left  over  in 
the  morning,  and  are  all  as  hearty  and  healthy  as  pos- 
sible." 

"You're  making  up  again,"  they  cried;  "you  never 
keep  to  the  truth. ' ' 


HOLYLAND  159 

' '  Anyhow, ' '  said  another,  ' '  I  could  only  marry  the 
right  sort  of  man — good  and  clever. ' ' 

"  Oh,  yes,"  they  all  cried;  "  that's  necessary." 

"Nonsense,"  said  another,  bitterly;  "better  be  un- 
happily married  than  not  married  at  all." 

The  others  disagreed.  "  Oh,  no  !  Think  of.  .  .  .  and 
....  Ten  thousand  times  better  to  be  single." 

"  Yes,  but  she  has  children  of  her  own." 

"  Children — that  is  something  !  " 

"To  be  an  old  maid,  with  no  one  to  love,  no  one  to 
care  for. ' ' 

"  Well,  think  of  Hannah  Behrens  !  She  is  a  happy  old 
maid.  Yes,  really — there  is  no  mistake  about  it.  She  is 
thoroughly  happy,  although  she  is  thirty-two  and  single — 
really  happy." 

Some  shrugged  their  shoulders.  "  Yes,  there  are  some 
people  like  that ;  but  they  have  buttermilk  in  their 
veins,  and  had  much  better  not  marry.  We  are  not  like 
that — better  dead  than  live  single.  What  do  you  think, 
Anna  Boje?  " 

' '  Anna  takes  things  calmly — an  icy  queen. ' ' 

One  among  them,  however,  divined  the  passion  latent 
in  Anna,  and  looked  at  her  with  deep  interest.  This 
was  the  daughter  of  an  official  who,  having  from  her 
childhood  shown  a  wonderful  feeling  for  line  and  colour, 
and  great  deftness  of  hand,  had  been  sent,  at  her  mother's 
encouragement,  to  the  Polytechnic  at  Kiel.  Having  then 
turned  to  photography  she  was  now,  at  twenty-four, 
manageress  and  part  owner  with  an  art  dealer  in  a  big 
town,  earning  a  good  salary.  Just  now  she  was  paying  a 
visit  to  her  home  and  sitting  among  the  friends  of  her 
childhood.  Her  keen  quiet  eyes  sought  out  Anna  Boje. 

Anna,  who  had  always  liked  her  because  she  was  sincere 
and  natural  looked  at  her,  saying  : 

"If  one  had  a  gift  like  yours !  " 

"  Yes,"  said  the  other,  "  if  one  had  had  an  independent 
profession,  like  yours  !  " 

The  little  artist  looked  at  them,  only  saying  :  "  Yes.  .  . 
yes." 

Thereupon,  the  conversation  was  brought  to  an  end  by 
a  girl  of  twenty-eight,  a  clever,  serious-minded  girl, 
who  spent  her  time  in  nursing  an  invalid  father : 
' '  Those  who  say  that  they  find  complete  satisfaction  in 


160  HOLYLAND 

a  profession  are  either  lying-  or  naturally  unfitted  for  mar- 
riage. What  good  is  a  profession  for  the  rest  of  us? 
We  don't  want  to  look  after  other  people's  children,  to 
teach  other  people's  children,  attend  to  other  people's 
business,  and  nurse  sick  people  whom  we  don't  know  : 
we  want  to  love,  to  care  for,  to  suffer  for,  yes,  and  to  die 
for  what  belongs  to  us:  that's  our  Hilligenlei. " 

Thus  they  spoke  openly  of  their  need.  Not  one  among 
them  was  ugly.  All,  except  one,  who  was  a  little  queer, 
were  fresh,  sweet-natured,  healthy  girls. 

Silence  fell  upon  them  for  a  space.  Then  they  began  to 
talk  in  twos  and  threes,  and  gradually  grew  merry,  and 
laughed  again. 

When  Anna  Boje  got  up  to  go,  rather  sooner  than  the 
others,  the  little  artist  accompanied  her. 

"  Can't  you  still  become  a  teacher?  "  she  said  timidly. 

"I  can't  manage  it,"  said  Anna,  in  a  troubled  voice; 
"  I  lose  my  temper  at  once.  I  haven't  a  single  gift  of  any 
sort." 

"  You  are  sure  to  get  married,"  said  the  other  com- 
fortingly; "you're  only  twenty-three,  and  tall  and 
beautiful,  and  clever.  Who  will  get  married  if  not 
you?  " 

Anna  shrugged  her  shoulders,  and  said  bitterly:  "  No 
one  has  asked  me  yet,  not  a  single  person " 

"Tilda  Peters  is  quite  right,"  continued  the  other;  "  a 
profession  is  not  enough  to  make  us  happy.  It  may 
satisfy  those  who  are  somehow  weak  and  colourless,  but 
those  who  are  strong  long  for  a  husband  and  children.  It 
is  true  they  say  one  can  suppress  it.  .  .  ." 

"Suppress  it !  "  cried  Anna,  scornfully;  "I  might  as 
well  crush  in  my  eyes  and  my  bosom  !  " 

"It  is  terrible,"  said  her  little  friend  in  a  low  tone; 
"  terrible.  Many  suffer  in  silence  and  become  dulled  by 
pain.  Anguish  drives  others  to  steal  secretly  what  they 
cannot  get  openly  and  honourably.  The  power  of  the 
Church  and  respectability  used  to  be  strong  enough  to  say 
'  submit,'  but  now-a-days  in  big  towns  who  cares  for  the 
Church  or  for  respectability?  They  say  'We  cannot  be 
deprived  of  hearth  and  cradle.'  They  take  their  share, 
and  so,  what  ought  to  be  pure  joy  becomes  a  sin  and 
sorrow.  It  is  terribly,  terribly  hard  for  thousands  of  girls 
in  our  towns." 


HOLYLAND  161 

Anna  looked  shyly  at  the  dark  dainty  face  :  "  What  do 
your  parents  think  of  such  ideas?  " 

She  shrugged  her  shoulders.  "  My  father  goes  to 
the  club  every  evening,  hears  licentious  stories,  and  tells 
some  of  his  own;  mother  was  married  at  eighteen  and 
does  not  understand  me.  And  that  is  perhaps  the 
hardest  of  all.  We,  the  children  of  a  new  age,  are 
orphans. " 

Anna  accompanied  her  to  her  home,  and  then  pursued  her 
way  through  the  dark  streets  in  utter  despair. 

"  I  am  not  needed  at  home.  I  have  no  talent.  Must  I 
go  to  a  strange  house,  serve  strange  people,  look  on 
at  their  happiness?  or  do  some  dull,  monotonous  work 
that  leads  to  nothing?  Go  I  must.  I  am  twenty-three,  I 
can't  stay  at  home  any  longer.  Heinke  is  too  young  to 
go — I  must." 

As  she  went  down  the  harbour  street  her  misery  grew 
more  poignant  every  moment,  and  roused  the  dark  thoughts 
that  slumbered  in  the  dim  recesses  of  her  mind,  that 
slumber  in  every  heart.  "  If  a  letter  came  from  him.  .  . 
a  black-edged  letter.  ...  if  she  were  dead.  .  .  .  Oh,  how 
happy  I  should  be  !  ...  I  should  cry  out  for  sheer  happi- 
ness !  Think  of  the  waiting  !  .  .  then,  then  we  should  see 
each  other  again.  .  .  I  should  go  and  meet  them  at  the 
station  !  .  .  .  .  How  happy  I  shall  make  you  three  !  How 
you  shall  laugh  with  me  !  I  shall  be  so  sweet  and  good  to 

you Oh,  no — she  lives ;  she  is  getting  better.  .   .   . 

Oh,  if  she  were  to  die  !  She  has  had  ten  years  of  utter 
joy — ten  long,  lovely  years.  .  .  .  give  me  ten.  .  .  three 
.  .  .  .  one — give  me  one  year;  then  I  will  gladly  die — 
oh,  gladly.  A  year  of  joy  without  sin,  without  fear.  .  .  . 
Oh,  if  she  were  only  to  die  !  " 

She  went  down  to  the  sluice,  and  stood  there  listening 
to  the  gurgling  water,  listening  to  her  own  thoughts.  "  I 
am  wicked.  ...  so  wicked,  that  the  best  thing  would  be 
for  me  to  drown  myself.  I  have  no  hope  at  all.  Who 
would  sorrow  for  me,  who  would  miss  me?  My  children 
sleep  within  me,  no  one  wakes  them.  What  I  can  do, 
and  what  I  want  to  do  is  to  love  someone,  and  to  care 
for  him ;  but  no  one  wants  me.  ...  I  will  wait  a  little 
while.  .  .  .  I  will."  She  looked  across  to  the  long  house. 
There  was  still  a  light  in  Rieke  Thomson's  room.  "  I  will 
know  whether  there  is  any  hope  for  me.  I  have  mocked 

M 


i62  HOLYLAND 

before — cards,   what  can   they   tell !  .   .  .   But  when  one 
is  in  such  need.  ..." 

She  looked  in  front  of  her  once  more,  and  listened  to 
the  wind ;  then  she  rose  and  went  up  on  to  the  dyke,  and 
after  listening  to  hear  whether  the  old  dame  were  alone, 
went  along  the  passage  and  into  the  room.  Rieke  Thom- 
son was  sitting  in  her  big  chair,  and  had  just  turned  her 
head  to  look  across  the  bay  for  a  light :  she  was  stouter 
even  than  of  old. 

"What!  Anna  Boje?  "  said  she,  sharply;  "what  do 
you  want  of  me?  "  Like  most  people,  she  could  not  bear 
the  Bojes  because  of  the  haughty  air  with  which  they 
carried  their  proud  heads. 

"  I  want  you  to  put  out  the  cards  for  me.  I -have  often 
wanted  to  come  before,  but  never  had  time,"  said  Anna 
cheerfully. 

"  Everyone  who  oomes  says  either  '  Rieke,  I  want  just 
to  see  your  hocus  pocus,'  or  '  I  have  often  wanted  to  come 
before,  but  never  had  time.'  As  a  matter-of-fact,  every- 
one who  comes  comes  because  they  are  in  some  trouble. 
An  evening  comes  to  everyone  who  is  young  and  in 
trouble,  when  they  believe  in  my  art.  I  don't  think  there 
is  a  single  girl  or  a  single  married  woman,  gentle  or 
simple,  in  Hilligenlei,  that  hasn't  been  to  me  in  the  last 
thirty  years.  Give  me  the  cards,  please — there  on  the 
shelf — no,  further  to  the  right — on  the  Bible.  Give  me 
the  Bible  at  the  same  time :  I  must  read  the  evening 
lesson." 

She  shuffled  the  cards  and  placed  them  slowly  in  four 
rows  on  top  of  one  another,  then  slid  her  finger  over  them. 
"  Not  much  money,"  she  said  slowly,  "  but  bread  enough 
....  there  is  a  fair  man  who  is  thinking  of  you,  but  can- 
not tell  you  so.  ...  there  is  something  in  the  way.  .  .  . 
And  also  a  dark  gentleman,  with  a  lady  by  his  side. "  She 
looked  up  questioningly  at  the  ripe  loveliness  by  her  side. 
"That's  all." 

Then  said  Anna,  in  an  unsteady  voice,  "  We  are 
troubled  about  my  brother.  ...  he  is  far  away  at  sea 
....  far  away.  ...  I  wanted  to  know — there  is  no — 
no  death?  " 

Rieke  Thomson  looked  up  again  and  understood  it  all 
from  the  hard  glint  in  her  eyes.  This  cruel  courage 
pleased  her,  but  she  shook  her  head  and  said  honestly : 
'"  No,  there  is  no  death  there." 


HOLYLAND  163 

Anna  stood  up,  laid  sixpence  on  the  table,  and  went 
away.  She  went  home  and  slept,  got  up,  and  went  on  from 
day  to  day  in  deep  depression  of  spirit.  "  In  the  autumn  I 
leave  home,"  she  said;  "  I  will  find  a  situation  in  some 
family  in  Hamburg,  and  get  Hett  to  come  to  Hamburg 
too,  and  look  after  him.  I  can  see  Pete  there  from  time 
to  time,  and  be  his  friend  until  He  marries — that  will  be 
the  end  of  it." 

Spring  came  on  apace  :  a  lovely,  sunny,  joyous  spring. 
Pe  Ontjes  Lau  came  to  Hilligenlei ;  his  final  removal  de- 
layed because  he  kept  accepting  good  berths  when  they 
were  offered  to  him.  He  came  to  bring  Mrs.  Boje  mess- 
ages from  Pete,  who  had  gone  to  Iquique  on  board  the 
Gude  Wife,  and  reported  that  the  improvement  which  Pete 
had  invented  had  proved  excellent,  and  he  would  probably 
go  over  to  naval  engineering  when  a  good  opening  offered. 
He  then  went  away,  and  did  not  return.  He  was  fully 
occupied  in  learning  his  father's  business  and  trying  to 
discover  whether  anything  could  be  made  of  it.  Until  he 
had  decided  that  point  he  must  think  of  nothing  else. 
Anna  had  not  been  at  home;  afterwards  she  only  very 
occasionally  met  him  in  the  street,  and  he  merely  bowed 
politely  and  went  on  his  way.  She  looked  up  shyly,  think- 
ing, "  He  doesn't  like  me.  That's  a  real  man;  but  he 
doesn't  like  me;  he  will  marry  a  farmer's  daughter  with 
money." 

It  was  a  beautiful  summer,  but  the  dead  weight  of  de- 
pression lay  heavy  on  her.  Her  mother  and  Heinke  said 
little  to  her. 

"  In  October  I  shall  go  to  Hamburg,"  she  thought.  "  I 
can  be  the  fly  on  the  wheel  somewhere  :  a  telephone  clerk 
or  something  like  that.  I'm  too  stupid  for  anything  else. " 

One  day  Anna  Martens  came  with  her  husband  and  her 
first  child,  able  to  walk  by  now.  There  was  some- 
thing calm  and  dignified  about  her ;  her  eyes  glowed  with 
inward  happiness.  She  followed  Anna  into  the  kitchen 
and  said  : 

"  What  do  you  think  of  the  great  Mr.  Lau?  That's  the 
sort  of  man  for  you — calm  and  splendid." 

"  Don't  talk  nonsense,"  said  Anna,  her  eyes  bent  on  her 
work. 

"  Perhaps,"  said  Anna,  "  he  isn't  good  enough  for  you 
— you  want  a  student !  " 

"Oh,"  said  Anna,  looking  at  her  friend  in  astonish- 

M    2 


164  HOLYLAND 

ment,  mingled  with  bitterness,  "how  little  you  know 
about  it,  Anna  !  I  want  someone  whom  I  can  love,  some- 
one good  and  true  and  strong — that's  all.  What  do  I 
care  for  money,  or  Latin  and  Greek?  " 

At  that  time  there  was  in  the  town  a  young  man  of  good 
family  who  was  in  a  position  in  a  bank  in  Berlin  and  had 
come  home  to  be  nursed  back  to  health  by  his  parents,  hav- 
ing become  ill  through  dissipation,  or,  as  he  said,  through 
work.  After  a  few  days  he  became  bored,  and  looked 
about  him  for  amusement,  which,  being  a  handsome 
young  man,  and  a  lady-killer,  he  had  no  difficulty  in  find- 
ing. It  soon  became  matter  of  common  knowledge  that 
several  young  girls  had  yielded  themselves  to  him, 
although  they  knew  that  he  had  no  thoughts  of  marriage. 
Since  the  honourable  young  men  were  indolent  or  pru- 
dent, their  needs  delivered  them  to  his  mercy. 

One  day  he  saw  Anna  Boje  in  the  street.  Recognising 
her  with  some  surprise,  he  addressed  her,  asked  about 
Pete,  and  formed  in  his  own  mind  the  resolution  :  "  I  will 
possess  Anna  Boje;  it  will  be  wonderful  to  teach  her  the 
meaning  of  love. " 

Towards  evening  he  walked  up  and  down  the 
lane,  and,  on  the  third  day,  induced  her  to  come  out 
to  him.  She  only  wanted  a  man  to  show  her  that  she 
was  desirable  to  him.  She  did  not  go  to  meet  him ;  but, 
walking  round  the  houses,  came  out  under  the  lime-trees 
in  the  park.  He  stood  there  where  the  paths  diverged 
at  the  opening  of  the  avenue,  waiting  for  her.  It  was 
very  dark. 

"  Anna  Boje  !  "  said  he,  with  a  laugh,  approaching  her. 
She  turned  round  and  pushed  out  her  hands  so  as  to  send 
him  staggering  back.  Then,  with  a  few  words  of  burning 
indignation,  she  left  him. 

In  the  excitement  of  her  feelings  she  went  out  of  the 
town  up  to  the  three  paths.  The  evening  was  mild  and 
beautiful.  Above  the  dark  houses  of  Volkmersdorf  to  one 
side  of  the  summit  the  moon  rose  calmly,  casting  her 
peaceful  light  over  the  night.  She  walked  slowly,  still 
trembling  in  every  limb.  "  Oh,  however  much  I  long  for 
it  ....  even  if  I  had  wanted  to  ...  I  could  not  have 
done  it.  The  others  have  done  it.  I  cannot.  Ugh  !  how 
he  took  hold  of  me !  " 

In  the  deep  grass  stood  the  big  red  cows,  slowly  tearing 


HOLYLAND  165 

the  grass  as  they  ate.  Under  the  second  path  the  water 
glinted;  under  the  third  it  ran  audibly  down  in  the  valley 
beneath.  Once  more  she  came  back  to  the  perpetual  subject 
of  her  thoughts.  "  Why  must  I  be  lonely — without  love? 
Am  I  to  be  lonely  always  ?  ' '  She  began  to  brood  over  it, 
thinking  gloomily  that  the  fault  lay  in  her,  that  she  was 
joyless  because  her  character  was  peculiar  and  disagree- 
able. Perhaps  there  was  something  in  her  parents'  past 
which  caused  people  to  look  upon  her  with  secret  con- 
tempt. She  came  to  the  bottom  of  the  ascent,  and  went 
slowly  up.  To  the  right  and  left  of  her  were  the  sheaves 
of  rye;  higher  up  the  soil  was  broken  up  for  the  new 
seed.  The  air  was  heavy  with  fruition.  The  bitterness  in 
her  soul  rose  up  and  darkened  everything.  "  How  hate- 
ful all  this  growth  and  blossoming  is,  all  this  fruit  bear- 
ing," she  thought,  "  how  repulsive.  I  won't  blossom  and 
bear  fruit — no.  I  will  be  buried  eight  feet  deep  in  the 
earth,  so  that  I  can  be  no  use  even  when  I  am  dead — or 
else  a  flower  or  a  tree  might  spring  up  out  of  me.  Oh  ! 
the  idea  is  hateful." 

She  came  out  on  to  the  heath  and  walked  upon  the  soft, 
springing  ground.  Beneath  her  in  the  blue  haze  of  a  July 
night  lay  the  wide  plain.  She  turned  aside  from  the  path, 
and  sat  down  wearily  on  the  wall,  and,  as  she  gazed  over 
the  beautiful  peace  of  the  wide  landscape  stretched  out 
before  her,  she  became  more  calm  and  gentle.  Her  thoughts 
flew  back  to  the  hours  of  her  wonderful,  fearful  happiness. 
"  Once  you  have  been  happy :  a  good  and  glorious 
man  has  loved  you  once.  Oh,  yes,  how  he  loved,  how  his 
eyes  used  to  shine,  how  his  words  glowed.  What  agony 
parting  was  to  him  :  no,  nothing  in  the  world  can  blot  that 
out  of  my  life. ' '  She  began  to  go  through  the  different 
scenes  in  her  mind  :  the  beginning  in  the  lane.  .  .  .  and 
so  sat  thinking  and  dreaming.  She  lost  all  sense  of 
reality,  and  fell  into  a  kind  of  waking  sleep.  The  heath 
spread  out  dark  and  wide,  and  beyond  and  below  the  grey 
darkness  of  the  land  stretched  out  to  meet  the  sea. 
Across  the  heath,  from  the  wide,  boundless  distance,  came 
a  wondrous  being,  like  a  bright-coloured,  heavy  cow,  with 
beautiful  curling  horns  and  monstrous  ears,  and  huge, 
moist,  shining  eyes.  It  stood  before  her  and  looked 
thoughtfully  at  her.  And  she  dreamed  she  was  walking 
along  the  lane,  and  lost  her  clothes,  one  after  another,  till 


166  HOLYLAND 

she  was  quite  naked;  and  her  three  friends  stood  there 
weeping  to  see  her  in  such  a  state.  Then  from  a  side  road 
came  the  mayor,  whom  she  hated  since  she  was  a  child, 
because  he  always  looked  at  her  as  much  as  to  say  :  ' '  The 
teacher's  widow's  poor  daughter. "  And  with  him  came  the 
man  she  had  rebuffed,  and  they  looked  at  her  and  laughed, 
and  their  laughter  terrified  her  so  that  she  fell  down  and 
lay  as  one  dead.  Then — it  was  no  longer  in  the  lane,  but 
on  the  high  road  outside  the  town — the  town  scavenger, 
Jochen  Wenig,  came  from  another  side  road  to  carry  her 
off  into  his  hut.  In  her  horror  she  cried  out,  and  awoke. 

Looking  round  her  in  terror  she  began  confusedly  to  re- 
peat prayers  and  texts  which  she  had  learnt  at  school ;  and 
got  up  stiffly  to  her  feet. 

A  man  came  towards  her,  groaning  and  breathing 
heavily,  and  said  in  a  loud  voice  :  "  Who's  here?  What's 
the  matter?  Who's  worrying  herself  in  this  way?  You — 
is  it  you,  my  child?  " 

"Yes,  it's  me,  Uncle  Wedderkop,"  said  Anna. 

"  My  child,"  he  said,  his  voice  suddenly  becoming  quite 
soft  and  sympathetic;  "  why  are  you  crying  in  this  piteous 
way?  Has  anyone  hurt  you  in  any  way?  Come — come, 
let's  go  away  together.  Only  don't  cry  so — don't  cry." 

"  I  am  so  fearfully  lonely,"  she  cried,  sobbing  pitiably, 
' '  so  fearfully  deserted. ' ' 

For  a  time  he  walked  by  her  side  in  silence.  Then 
he  said,  "  Convention  is  the  cause  of  your  suffering.  Con- 
ventional respectability  is  a  murderer :  it  is  destroying 
your  youth  and  the  youth  of  many  of  your  sisters. 
Think — if  we  lived  under  natural  conditions  you  would, 
from  your  childhood  up,  always  have  been  surrounded 
by  young  people  of  the  other  sex ;  one  would  have 
been  your  friend,  another  would  have  honoured  you 
from  a  distance,  a  third  would  have  played  happily 
with  you.  This  sunny  wind-swept  height  might  have 
been  the  playground  of  the  young  people  of  Hilli- 
genlei.  Three  or  four  or  more,  the  best  in  all  the  coun- 
try round,  would  have  sued  eagerly  for  your  love  from  the 
time  you  were  twenty,  because  of  your  beauty  and  your 
chastity,  and,  amid  much  wrangling  and  weeping,  playing 
and  kissing,  you  would  have  become  a  woman.  And 
that's  how  it  still  is  among  the  children  of  labourers  and 
artisans.  A  labourer's  child,  if  she  is  chaste  and  beauti- 


HOLYLAND  167 

ful,  has  wooers  enough.  But,  in  the  so-called  educated 
classes,  convention  has  perverted  and  destroyed  what  was 
naturally  beautiful.  Convention  says  to  a  young  girl : 
'  You  mustn't  go  for  a  walk  alone  with  a  young  man ;  you 
mustn't  call  him  by  his  Christian  name;  you  mustn't  kiss 
him  unless  you  are  going  to  marry  him ;  you  must  have  so- 
and-so  much  dowry. '  And  it  says  to  the  young  man  : 
'  You  mustn't  marry  without  money — your  income  is  too 
small.  You  must  expend  the  flower  of  your  manhood  on 
fallen  women,  and  marry  late.  You  will  escape  respon- 
sibility if  you  remain  single.'  And  so,  wherever  the 
young  men  and  women  are,  convention  follows  them  like 
a  cantankerous  old  aunt,  robbing  you  girls  of  the  best  time 
of  your  lives,  so  that  many  never  marry,  and  many  don't 
marry  till  too  late.  Little  one,  you  are  not  despised ;  no 
one  despises  you — you  must  never  think  that ;  only,  like 
thousands  of  others,  you  are  sacrificed  to  a  cruel,  per- 
nicious convention.  What  help  is  there?  One  individual 
cannot  do  much.  You  women  must  do  it  yourselves. 
One  thing  I  say  to  you,  my  dear  girl,  and  don't  forget  it : 
if  you  marry  and  are  happy  in  your^home,  and  in  having 
someone  to  love  and  to  care  for,  then  do  not  forget  your  dear 
sisters  sitting  alone  as  you  are  now,  longing  for  the  ful- 
filment of  their  woman's  destiny,  a  home  to  love,  filled 
with  children's  tears  and  laughter.  Work  in  some  way  to 
help  the  young  women  of  our  country. " 

Anna  had  listened  attentively,  and  the  kind  words 
soothed  her.  The  moon  looked  down  peacefully  over  the 
silent  world. 

"Years  ago,"  she  said  softly,  "  I  did  something  that 
is  considered  a  sin;  but  I  loved  him  beyond  everything. 
I  cannot  speak  of  it  to  anyone." 

' '  Is  it  over  now  ?  ' ' 

"  Yes,  quite  over;  he  is  far  away." 

"  Was  he  good  to  you?  " 

"  Oh,  so  good,"  she  said.  "  But  he  could  not  help  me 
or  himself.  ...  he  could  not  be  false  to  an  old  bond,  and 
I  could  not  be  happy  at  the  cost  of  someone  else's 
misery." 

"Nature  is  stronger  than  convention,"  he  said. 
"Thank  God  for  that;  and  love  is  mightier  than  death, 
for  which  thank  Him  too." 

"God?"  she  said  in  a  low  sad  tone;  "  when  I  was  a 


i68  HOLYLAND 

child  I  remember  being  dreadfully  distressed  because  I 
had  left  one  person  of  the  Trinity  out  of  my  evening 
prayers.  .  .  .  now  the  Trinity  means  nothing  to  me — 
nothing.  I  have  no  faith,  and  that  is  sad." 

"  Yes,"  said  he,  reflectively,  "it  is  sad.  But  I  cannot 
help  you  there.  I  have  none  either.  I  also  have  no  Hilli- 
genlei,  no  Holyland  for  my  soul.  I  cannot  accept  the 
faith  of  the  Church  or  find  another  of  my  own." 

She  drew  a  deep  breath  and  said  : 

"  You  have  done  me  good,  Uncle  Wedderkop.  I  have 
longed  so  terribly,  for  such  a  long  while,  to  hear  a  friendly 
word."  Then  she  added  hesitatingly,  in  a  low  voice: 
"  But  if  I  don't  get  married,  I  don't  know  what  I  shall  do 
with  my  life." 

He  looked  at  her  sideways,  with  rather  a  roguish  ex- 
pression, and  said:  "Come,  Antje;  you're  only  twenty- 
three;  hasn't  your  mirror  told  you  what  you  look  like? 
It  may  be  a  year,  or  two,  or  even  three,  but — the  man  will 
come,  a  fine,  serious  man,  who  wants  you." 

"No  one  dares  to  come  near  me,"  she  said,  breathing 
quick  again. 

He  laughed.  "  No  coward  would  venture;  but  it  would 
be  no  good  if  he  did.  He  will  be  a  real  man,  and  one  who 
knows  his  own  worth.  That's  why  you  have  to  wait  so 
long." 

The  streets  were  quiet ;  the  moonlight  lay  upon  them 
cold  and  grey.  "  I  will  trust  for  a  while  then,"  she 
said. 

"Yes,"  said  he,  "don't  despair.  Hope  for  Hilligen- 
lei!  " 


CHAPTER  XIV 

BY  autumn  Pe  Ontjes  Lau  was  assured  that  his  business 
was  going  to  be  a  success.  He  gave  up  managing  the 
smacks  himself,  extended  his  shed,  and  built  a  vane  on  the 
top,  which,  in  spite  of  all  his  oiling,  creaked  unpleasantly 
all  day  long.  As  soon  as  the  news  reached  the  club  they 
cried  :  "  It  will  go  wrong;  it's  sure  to  go  wrong;  such  a 
thing  is  impossible  in  Hilligenlei. " 

But  Pe  Ontjes  knew  that  he  had  now  got  a  business  that 
would  make  him  happy  and  support  a  wife  and  children. 
So  he  lifted  up  his  head,  and  went  to  look  for  Anna  Boje. 
Up  to  now  he  had  compelled  his  eyes  to  look  at  nothing  but 
maize  and  barley  sacks,  or  the  keen-eyed  farmers ;  now  he 
lifted  up  his  head  and  looked  about  him.  And  there  is 
never  any  doubt  or  hesitation  when  Peter  Ontjes  Lau, 
formerly  the  magnificent  mate  of  the  Gude  Wife,  now  corn- 
dealer,  lifts  his  head.  Well,  he  lifted  his  head  with  its  short 
fair  beard,  and  looked  about  him.  Where  is  Anna  Boje? 

One  misty  evening  in  October  her  mother  came  into  the 
kitchen  and  said,  "  First  mate  Lau  passed  a  minute  ago 
and  knocked  at  the  window  to  ask  where  you  were;  he 
had  not  seen  you  for  a  long  time." 

Anna  looked  up  from  her  work,  saying  crossly  :  "  What 
is  Lau  to  me?  " 

"  Child,  what  is  the  matter?  "  said  her  mother  much 
troubled.  "  There  is  nothing  wrong  in  it." 

"  He  never  troubled  about  me  before.  What  does  he 
want?  " 

But  when  she  had  washed  up  after  supper  a  strange 
confusion  of  feelings  drove  her  out  into  the  dark  evening. 
Curiosity,  ardent  and  joyful  desire,  restless  anger,  all  had 
share  in  it.  She  went  out  by  the  kitchen  door  along  the 
lane  up  to  the  long  house  on  the  dyke.  He  followed  her. 

"  Hallo,  Anna  Boje  !  "  he  said,  with  all  his  old  serenity  of 


i7o  HOLYLAND 

manner.      ' '  Well  met !     I  was  going  up  to  the  pierhead  to 
see  whether  there  are  any  signs  of  the  smack. " 

She  went  with  him,  and  he  asked  after  Heinke  and  Hett. 
She  said  how  glad  his  mother  must  be  to  have  him  in  Hilli- 
genlei,  and  how  her  mother  longed  to  have  Pete  safe  on 
shore.  He  inquired  how  she  spent  the  day ;  she  must  have 
enough  to  do,  now  that  her  mother  sat  all  day  at  the 
machine.  She  said  that  after  the  harvest  festival  she  meant 
to  look  for  a  situation — in  Hamburg,  if  possible.  Such  cir- 
cumspect conversation  occupied  them  until  they  had  reached 
the  pier,  and  turned  back  again.  Then  there  came  a 
silence. 

"  If  you  were  agreeable "  he  began — he  tried,  with- 
out success,  to  say  it  offhand,  but  the  tone  of  his  voice  was 
quite  changed — ' '  if  you  were  agreeable,  I  should  like  to 
take  a  walk  like  this  another  time  with  you.  Will  you?  " 

There  was  an  apple  in  her  throat ;  she  said  slowly,  in  a 
choking  voice  :  "  Why  haven't  you  taken  any  notice  of  me 
all  this  time?  You  never  came  that  time  in  Hamburg, 
either." 

"  That  time  in  Hamburg  I  couldn't  come.  Afterwards 
I  have  always  been  thinking  of  the  business.  I  am  the 
sort  of  man  that  likes  to  feel  the  ground  firm  beneath  his 
feet  before  doing  anything  new,"  he  said  with  proud 
composure. 

"  Yes,"  said  she  angrily,  "  that's  what  you  are,  that's 
what  you  have  always  been.  .  .  .  you  have  always 
thought  an  eel,  or  a  rope,  or  a  sack  of  maize  more  im- 
portant than  a  living  human  being." 

"  That's  not  true,"  he  said,  in  some  anger;  "  you  have 
no  right  to  say  that." 

"If  it  were  not  so,  you  wouldn't  have  grudged  me  a 
friendly  word  in  all  this  time. ' ' 

"It's  a  pity,"  said  he,  "  that  you  are  so.  touchy — your 
own  mother  complains  of  it." 

"  I  am  not  touchy,"  she  said,  angrily;  "  everybody  is 
unjust  in  saying  that — and  you,  of  course,  would  be  one. 
You  were  the  first  of  all.  When  I  was  a  tiny  girl  you 
were  hard  upon  me.  You  are  proud;  yes,  you  are.  You 
always  want  to  keep  me  down.  You  always  want  to  show 
that  you  are  somebody,  you  have  something,  and  I  am  no- 
body and  have  nothing,  and  ought  to  be  glad  when  the 
lord  comes  and  drops  me  a  word  !  ' ' 


HOLYLAND  171 

He  laughed  in  some  annoyance,  without  quite  knowing 
what  to  say.  She  went  a  few  steps  further  by  his  side, 
then  hastening  her  pace  disappeared  into  the  darkness. 

Reaching  home  she  went  straight  up  to  her  room  and 
went  to  bed,  working  herself  up  into  a  state  of  ever  increas- 
ing anger  and  despair.  The  west  wind  blew  gently  at  the 
door  and  at  the  window,  and  she  lay  listening  to  it.  Soon 
she  rose,  and  with  rapid  fingers  undid  her  yellow  coils; 
then  throwing  herself  wildly  down  again,  she  buried  her 
head  in  the  waves.  ' '  Oh,  if  he  were  to  come  !  If  he  could 
see  me  now.  .  .  .  and  it  tortured  him.  I  know  1  am 
beautiful  and — and  I  know  I  can  make  a  man  happy." 

The  west  wind  pressed  softly  against  the  door.  Now 
not  only  the  wind  :  the  latch  clicked. 

"  Anna,"  he  said,  calmly;  "  I  would  so  gladly  be  friends 
with  you.  Anna.  .  .  .  speak  kindly." 

She  lay  still,  only  moving  her  white  shoulders  a  little. 
"What  am  I  to  say?  I  am  proud,  senselessly  touchy — I 
don't  even  realise  that  I  am  a  poor  teacher's  daughter, 
although  everyone  knows  it." 

"  You  are  mad,"  he  said,  standing  up;  "  there  is  no  use 
talking  to  you." 

He  was  gone. 

When  her  mother  came  into  the  kitchen  next  morning, 
and  saw  her  daughter's  set,  distorted  face,  she  was 
troubled,  and  said  :  "  Can  you  not  get  on  with  Pe  Ontjes? 
He  is  such  a  fine  good  fellow.  Oh,  my  child,  my  child  ! 
don't  harden  your  heart.  Afterwards  it  will  break  like 
glass  and  you  will  suffer  when  it  is  too  late." 

Anna  roused  herself  from  her  gloomy  dreams  to  say 
"  Be  silent;  I  can't  bear  it." 

In  the  afternoon,  when  her  mother  was  sitting  alone 
at  the  machine  Pe  Ontjes  came  in  and  sat  down  beside  her. 
"  Aunt  Boje,  Anna  and  I  are  fond  of  one  another;  but  we 
cannot  manage  to  come  to  an  agreement  at  all." 

"  Pe  Ontjes,"  she  said,  "you  know  how  glad  I  should 
be  if  you  could.  Don't  be  angry  with  her.  You  might 
have  asked  after  her  once  all  the  time  that  you  have  been 
here;  she  has  always  been  fond  of  you." 

'  Yes,"  he  said,  thoughtfully.  Then  he  raised  his  head 
and  said,  "  I  don't  think  there's  any  way  out  of  it  except 
for  us  to  be  yoked  together  like  two  recalcitrant  calves,  so 
that  we  are  forced  to  talk  things  out,  do  you  know,  for 


172  HOLYLAND 

six  or  ten  hours  together.  You  can't  go  on  quarrelling  all 
that  time;  you  can  talk  things  over  properly  then." 

Hella  Boje  once  more  sadly  shook  her  head.  "  I  don't 
think  we  can  do  that,"  she  said. 

' '  I  thought  of  taking  the  old  smack  to  Cuxhaven  myself 
this  evening.  I  have  sold  it  to  a  man  there.  She  might 
come  too." 

Hella  Boje  once  more  sadly  shook  her  head.  "  I  don't 
think  she  will,"  she  said. 

"Well,  then,  I'll  tell  you  what.  Send  her  to  the  pier 
about  nine  this  evening  with  a  parcel  of  washing  or  some- 
thing for  Hett,  or  Pete — the  Gude  Wife  comes  into  Ham- 
burg this  evening — will  you?  " 

"  I'll  see  what  I  can  do,"  she  said.  "  Go  now;  I'll  do 
what  I  can. ' ' 

Very  fortunately  Anna  spent  Monday  in  Friestadt  with 
Anna  Martens,  her  only  friend,  and  confessed  to  her 
the  whole  of  her  intercourse  with  Mate  Lau,  secretly 
hoping  to  be  scolded,  in  which  she  was  not  disappointed. 

Anna  Marten  had  said,  "  I  have  three  things  to  say  to 
you,  Anna.  Firstly,  if  he  wants  you  for  his  wife  he  can't 
think  very  ill  of  your  character.  Secondly,  you  are  proud 
and  touchy,  Anna.  Thirdly,  if  you  do  not  come  to  an 
understanding  with  him  you  will  turn  to  ice,  for  you  love 
him  terribly."  Therefore  when  Anna  came  home,  after 
supper,  about  eight  o'clock,  her  mind  had  been  illuminated 
by  this  very  plain  speaking  on  the  part  of  Anna  Martens. 

Her  mother  said,  "  Pe  Ontjes  Lau  has  been  here,  dear. 
He's  sailing  for  Cuxhaven  in  the  smack  about  nine,  and 
offered  to  take  anything  I  had  for  the  boys.  I  have 
wrapped  up  some  cakes  for  Hett,  he's  so  fond  of  them — 
and  Pe  Ontjes  said  it  would  be  best  if  you  would  take  the 
parcel  aboard  yourself.  I  expect  he  would  like  to  take 
you  to  Cuxhaven." 

She  said  no  more,  but  shut  the  door  softly  thinking, 
"Now  she  must  do  as  she  pleases;  may  God  help 
her!  " 

Anna  went  up  to  her  room,  sat  down  on  the  edge  of  her 
bed,  and  drew  a  deep  breath.  "  I  will  go  with  him.  I 
will  go  with  him.  Oh,  how  glad  I  am  that  he  is  not 
angry  !  how  glad.  If  he  is  good  to  me  I  shall  be  un- 
speakably glad ;  so  glad  that  he  will  wonder  at  me.  But 
if  I  see  that  we  cannot  manage  it,  then  there  is  nothing 


HOLYLAND  173 

in  the  world  for  me. "  She  got  up,  looked  about  her,  and 
thought,  "  I  will  wash." 

She  fetched  the  shallow  wooden  tub  that  leant 
against  the  wall  outside  into  her  room,  and  poured 
three  pailfuls  of  water  into  it;  shut  the  door,  drew 
down  the  blind,  and,  taking  off  all  her  clothes,  knelt  down 
in  front  of  the  tub  and  began  to  wash  herself  with  a  serious 
face.  As  she  washed  her  neck  and  her  beautiful  shoulders 
she  thought  "  The  mud  stuck  there  which  they  threw  at 
me  under  his  eyes  on  the  sandbank.  I  was  a  child  then. 
What  has  become  of  my  shoulders  and  of  my  soul  since 
then?  Will  he  put  his  arms  round — the  big  horrid  boy." 

She  washed  her  plump  white  arms,  thinking  "Would 
you  rather  play  with  the  waves  or  with  Pe  Ontjes 
Lau?  Oh,  Pe  Ontjes  Lau — rather  !  " 

A  faint  smile  crossed  her  face  as  she  wondered  what  he 
would  be  like,  whether  he  would  keep  that  serene  calm, 
that  cool  condescension  of  manner — a  smile  like  the  pass- 
age of  a  light  cloud  above  a  dark  pinewood,  lighting  up 
its  dark  recesses.  She  washed  her  beautiful  soft  body, 
without  a  mark  or  a  crease,  for  it  had  never  been  tightly 
laced.  "  No  one  has  seen  my  body  since  the  last  time  my 
mother  bathed  me.  I  have  always  bathed  alone  since  at 
the  edge  of  the  meadow.  No  one  has  seen  it — no  one. 
Whom  does  it  concern?  Does  it  concern  Pe  Ontjes  Lau? 
I  am  not  answerable  to  anyone  for  what  I  do  with  my 
body — I  am  free,  full  grown.  Have  I  ever  debased  it? 
ever  made  it  unclean?  ever  done  anything  impure  or  un- 
natural? No;  I  have  nothing  to  reproach  myself 
with." 

She  washed  her  beautiful  straight  legs  down  to  the 
knees,  looking  thoughtfully  at  a  white  scar  on  the  inside 
curve  above  the  knee.  Once,  when  she  was  between 
twelve  and  thirteen,  she  had  had  a  childish  passion  for  a 
merry,  good-looking  young  fellow  on  neighbour  Marten's 
farm,  and  when  he  was  working  with  the  horses  in  the 
field  she  used  to  make  him  get  off  and  mount  her  straddle- 
legs  on  the  horse.  One  day,  at  the  time  of  the  wheat  har- 
vest, the  four-year-old  mare  on  which  she  was  mounted 
refused  to  pull ;  a  thunder-storm  was  threatening,  and  the 
man  in  angry  impatience  tried  to  strike  at  it  with  his 
pitchfork.  As  he  was  in  the  act,  however,  the  mare 
swerved,  and  one  prong  of  the  fork  went  right  into  the 


174  HOLYLAND 

child's  leg  through  her  clothes.  Terrified  he  examined  the 
place,  staunched  the  blood  with  his  lips,  and  fetched  water 
from  the  ditch,  shaking  his  head  and  saying  "  Poor  little 
pet,  poor  little  pet."  When  her  mother  discovered  the 
bloodstains  on  her  garments,  and  inquired  after  the  cause, 
she  said  she  had  fallen  on  a  nail,  so  as  not  to  betray  him. 
Something  of  the  old  feeling  came  back  as  she  looked  at 
the  scar  and  thought,  "  I  have  never  told  anyone  that  little 
tale;  how  lovely  to  have  a  good  man  as  a  real  friend." 
Her  face  softened  and  her  eyes  shone.  "  How  lovely  to 
be  close  to  him  and  show  him  the  scar ;  and  he  will  stroke 
it  and  laugh,  and  tease  me — how  wonderful !  "  Last  of 
all  she  washed  her  feet,  finely  set  on  slender  ankles,  neither 
too  large  nor  too  small.  "  When  I  was  a  child  they 
ran  far  out  into  the  shallows,  sometimes  we  would  stop 
and  look  at  the  print  they  made,  every  toe  and  every  curve 
so  clearly  marked  in  the  soft  sand.  Yes,  then  you  ran 
off  on  all  sorts  of  childish  pleasures,  away  from  Pe  Ontjes ; 
now  you  are  running  back  to  him — poor  runners;  you've 
got  to  do  what  I  want !  "  Again  she  laughed  softly,  and 
a  wave  of  blood  overspread  her  face.  "  Don't  tell.  .  .  . 
but  I  want  to  run  to  Pe  Ontjes.  Oh,  I  think  I  am  too 
happy."  She  went  and  knelt  down  in  front  of  the  chest 
of  drawers  singing  softly ;  out  of  tune — for  none  of  the 
Bojes  could  sing — but  it  pleased  her.  First  of  all  she 
took  out  and  put  on  a  soft  woollen  chemise,  then  the  linen 
one  from  the  very  bottom  of  the  drawer.  Three  years 
ago,  when  she  was  twenty-one,  her  mother  had  made  it 
of  fine  linen  with  her  own  hands,  and  made  a  delicate 
edging  of  lace  round  the  neck.  She  had  not  said  a  word 
about  it,  but  one  day  when  Anna  was  arranging  her  chest 
she  found  it,  and  knowing  at  once  for  what  her  mother 
had  intended  it,  she  had  put  it  away  right  at  the  bottom 
and  not  said  a  word  about  it.  Now  she  took  it  and  put 
it  on  while  she  knelt,  buttoning  it  on  the  left  shoulder,  and 
smoothing  it  down  in  front.  Then  she  did  her  hair.  First 
she  unpinned  and  uncoiled  it,  and  let  it  fall  so  that  it  shone 
like  a  golden  thatch ;  then  combed  and  plaited  it,  glancing 
from  time  to  time  into  the  mirror,  regarding  the  work  of 
her  hands  with  that  mixture  of  doubt  and  satisfaction  with 
which  the  female  fox  watches  its  children  at  play  in  the 
morning.  She  coiled  the  plaits  round  the  back  of  her 
head,  drew  her  hair  a  little  down  over  her  temples  in 


HOLYLAND  I75 

front,  and  nodded  her  head  twice,  ' '  Ready. ' '  Then  she 
drew  on  her  tight-fitting  bodice  of  white  linen,  and  but- 
toned on  to  it  two  pairs  of  knickerbockers,  one  of  thin 
white  cotton,  the  other  of  soft,  warm  wool — it  being 
November,  and  cold — and  over  all  her  dress — the  only 
pretty  one  she  possessed — blue,  quite  plain,  except  for  a 
slight  fulness  in  front,  and  made  in  one  piece  with  a  belt 
at  the  waist.  It  was  so  loose  that  when  she  raised  her 
shoulders  she  lifted  all  her  garments.  Next  she  put  on 
her  hat,  a  fairly  large,  brown  felt  with  a  wavy  brim, 
prettily  trimmed  with  brown  velvet  ribbon,  and  her  loose, 
grey  jacket.  Then,  last  of  all  she  took  down  the  big 
cloak  which  Anna  Martens  had  left  hanging  in  her  room. 
It  really  belonged  to  her  husband,  but  Anna  wore  it  some- 
times when  she  drove  to  Hilligenlei  in  cold  or  wet 
weather.  Anna  put  it  on  now,  smiling.  "  Well,  Anna 
Martens,  when  I  come  back  you  can  ask  your  coat  to  tell 
you  its  experiences. ' ' 

She  stood  at  the  door,  in  her  vigorous  beauty,  to  look 
back  once.  Then,  going  down,  took  the  parcel  from  the 
table,  and  calling  out  in  the  passage  "I'm  off!  "  went 
out. 

When  she  came  to  the  pier,  there  in  the  darkness  stood 
a  tallish  man  in  seafaring  clothes  with  oilskins  over  his 
arm,  waiting.  Thinking  he  was  Pe  Ontjes,  she  cried 
out  from  afar  off,  "  I  am  bringing  the  parcel."  But  it 
was  Kai  Jans.  "Where  have  you  sprung  from?  "  said 
she. 

"From  Berlin,"  he  said.  "I  came  yesterday.  I  am 
going  to  sail  to  Cuxhaven  with  my  old  mate  Pe  Ontjes. 
What  else  am  I  to  do  with  the  time?  " 

"Well,"  said  she,  "  you  can  take  this  parcel  for  Hett. 
He  is  in  Hamburg  now." 

He  shrugged  his  shoulders  and  said,  like  a  spoiled  child, 
"  I  don't  like  that.  You  must  do  it  yourself.  Come, 
I'll  bring  you  on  board." 

"  You'll  bring  me  back  immediately?  " 

"  Of  course,"  he  said,  taking  hold  of  the  oars.  "  What 
do  you  suppose?  I  am  no  buccaneer,  like  Wieben 
Peters." 

It  made  her  happy  to  know  that  these  two  big  men 
made  much  of  her,  and  told  such  quaint  lies  for  her 
sake.  She  said,  "You  wrote  to  Heinke  that  you  were 


176  HOLYLAND 

not  working  very  hard  in  Berlin.  And  you're  not  a 
student.  What  do  you  do,  then?" 

"  I  devour  life." 

"  What  do  you  mean?  "  she  said  jestingly. 

"  For  the  last  three  years  I've  put  away  all  my  brood- 
ing. I  live  and  see.  It's  a  huge  thing,  don't  you  know, 
to  have  come  from  the  narrow  life  on  the  ship,  from  the 
stuffy  books  in  Hilligenlei,  out  into  the  big,  bright,  mov- 
ing world  !  My  eyes  go  like  saucers. ' ' 

"And  work?" 

"  Oh  !  "  he  said.  "  I  haven't  done  very  much  yet,  but 
when  once  I  do  begin  it  will  go  all  right.  I  shall  pass 
my  examination,  never  fear,  when  the  time  comes.  I 
should  do  that  for  the  old  man's  sake,  anyhow,"  he  con- 
tinued in  a  more  serious  tone. 

"  I  don't  know,"  she  said,  "  but  it  seems  to  me  you're 
not  the  right  kind  of  person  to  be  a  clergyman.  You're 
much  too  light-headed  and  cheerful  for  it." 

"  You  don't  understand,  child.  It  is  just  cheerful 
people  that  are  wanted  now." 

"By  whom?  " 

"By  God." 

"Oh,  how  you  talk!  " 

"  Never  mind.  Give  me  your  hand.  The  great  mate 
isn't  there  yet." 

At  that  moment,  however,  he  came  aft.  She  drew 
back  the  hand  she  had  given  to  Kai  Jans  and  said  in 
her  clear  voice,  "Will  you  both  promise  to  be  good  and 
polite  to  me,  because  then  I  will  come  to  Cuxhaven  with 
you." 

"Girl,"  cried  Pe  Ontjes  Lau,  "come  here  quickly. 
Bo'sun,  up  with  the  mainsail." 

Kai  Jans  went  quickly  forward. 

"  Anna,"  said  Pe  Ontjes  in  a  low  voice,  "  this  is  sweet 
of  you  !  Put  on  your  coat,  now.  It's  cold  enough,  and 
raining  into  the  bargain.  Are  you  warmly  clad?  I've 
brought  mother's  wrapper  with  me."  He  fastened  the 
coat  in  front  for  her,  and,  taking  her  by  both  arms, 
pushed  her  down  into  a  seat  by  the  rudder.  "  So  !  Sit 
there  and  hold  the  rudder  for  a  moment." 

He  went  to  Kai  and  the  boy,  and  they  soon  got  up  the 
sails.  The  boat  sailed  slowly  down  stream.  Then  he 
came  back,  Kai  Jans  remaining  forward  with  the  boy. 


HOLYLAND  177 

"The  Gude  Wife  is  signalled,"  he  said,  taking  hold 
of  the  tiller.  "  She  comes  into  the  Elbe  to-day  or  to- 
morrow." 

"  Oh  !  how  lovely  !  "  she  said.  "  Perhaps  I  can  meet 
him  and  go  home  with  him." 

"And  me!  "  said  he. 

"Yes,"  she  said,  not  unkindly,  though  her  lips 
trembled,  "  if  you  care  to  go  with  a  person  like  me." 

He  laid  his  hand  quickly  upon  her  two,  which  lay  in 
her  lap,  pressed  them,  and  let  them  go.  "I  have  told 
father  to  let  your  mother  know  about  the  Gude  Wife  this 
evening. " 

'  That  is  nice  of  you — very." 

'Tell  me,  is  Heinke  like  you  in  character  as  well? 
She  is  like  you  to  look  at,  except  that  her  hair  and  eyes 
are  rather  darker — a  pretty,  slender  girl.  She  writes 
to  Kai  Jans — beginning  early." 

"  It's  only  play,"  said  she.  "  Kai  is  always  so  much 
interested  in  individuals — that's  what  it  is.  She  is  a 
clever  girl,  that's  why  he  likes  her.  By  the  bye,  I  don't 
think  your  boatswain  works  very  hard." 

"  Oh  !  that  doesn't  matter.  You're  rather  worried 
about  Hett,  aren't  you?" 

"  Oh,  no  !  "  she  said,  calmly.   "  He  is  getting  on  well." 

They  were  all  worried  about  Hett — mother,  Anna,  Pete, 
even  Heinke ;  but  the  Bojes  were  far  too  proud  to  confess 
as  much  to  others,  even  to  the  great  Pe  Ontjes. 

"  Well,"  he  said  quickly,  "  one  would  expect  that. 
The  boy  ought  to  be  decent,  with  such  parents  and  such 
brothers  and  sisters !  You're  all  magnificent,  but  the 
best  and  most  beautiful  of  all  the  Boje  children  is  the 
eldest." 

She  was  silent. 

He  went  on,  hesitatingly,  "If  we  come  to  Pe  Ontjes, 
he  considers  himself  a  good,  honest  fellow,  take  it  all  in 
all,  but  he  thinks  he  could  be  far  better,  far  cleverer,  far 
more  useful  if  he  had  you  for  his  wife — that's  how  it  is." 

"  Pe  Ontjes  !  "  she  said  with  breathless  agitation.  "  I 
want  nothing  in  the  world  so  much  as  that  you  should  be 
good  to  me." 

"  Then  hand  over  your  heart,"  he  said  aloud,  seizing 
her  hands  stretched  out  to  take  his. 

"  I  love  you,"  she  said;  "you  must  know  that." 


178  HOLYLAND 

"Thank  God  for  that,"  he  said,  holding  her  hands 
tight. 

"  But,  Pe  Ontjes,  we  are  so  poor!  " 

"Oh,  yes,"  he  said.  "I  am  marrying  your  tables 
and  chairs,  I  suppose !  Woman,  I  want  your  courage 
and  your  shining  eyes.  To-day  I  bought  Bartel's  house. 
It  isn't  big,  but  it  is  snug  and  comfortable,  and  then 
we  can  live  together.  My  mother  will  provide  a  table, 
your  mother  a  bed — so  there  !  Oh,  to  think  of  living  with 
you  !  ' ' 

"When  I  love  anyone,"  she  said  softly,  "then  I  love 
him,  oh  !  fearfully  much.  I  think  only  of  him  and  what 
concerns  him,  and  care  nothing  for  the  whole  wide  world 
beyond."  Raising  her  eyes,  she  looked  at  him.  "  I 
have  loved  you  for  a  long  while,"  she  said. 

"And  I  you,  Anna,"  said  he,  putting  his  free  arm 
round  her  neck. 

"Kai  Jans  will  see " 

"  No  !  He  said  ...  he  would  sit  behind  the  main- 
sail until  I  called  him.  Kai,  come  here. " 

Kai  Jans  stepped  down  from  the  poop. 

"  Kai,  we  are  engaged.  The  wedding  will  be  in  six 
weeks  at  most." 

"  Oh  !  "  said  Kai,  "  I  am  glad.  Now  we  shall  have 
a  delightful  voyage."  He  shook  hands  with  Anna. 
"Yes;  I  am  very  glad,  believe  me."  He  was  thinking 
of  an  evening  in  May  three  years  ago. 

"Thank  you,  Kai." 

"We  have  passed  the  sandbank."  He  pointed  to  a 
dark  line  to  the  north.  "  Do  you  remember,  Anna,  you 
called  him  the  eel-eater?  And  now — tastes  change  !  " 

"Good  Heavens!"  she  said.  "I  never  thought  of 
that.  No,"  she  said,  with  a  low  laugh,  "  I  can  never 
kiss  you  !  "  She  pressed  his  hand  hard. 

They  glided  past  the  lightship.  A  brief  word  was  ex- 
changed across  the  night.  When  its  light  had  disap- 
peared behind  them  they  saw  the  Heligoland  light  in 
front  of  them.  They  flew  over  the  sea,  the  swell 
driving  them  gradually  further  and  further  out  into  the 
open. 

"  Now  we  are  going  from  Holy  land  to  Holyland,"  said 
Kai  Jans.  "  It's  the  same  word,  Heligoland  and  Hilli- 
genlei. " 


HOLYLAND  179 

He  was  going  forward  again,  but  she  said,  "  Stay  with 
us,  Kai." 

"  I  shall  only  be  in  the  way,  child,"  he  said  thought- 
fully. 

' '  Not  at  all.  Come  and  sit  down  by  us.  There  is 
nothing  to  do  till  you  get  to  Heligoland.  If  you  don't 
want  to  sleep,  come  and  talk  to  us." 

"  For  a  little  while,  then,"  said  he,  sitting  down  beside 
Anna  and  spreading  out  his  oilskin  so  that  the  wind  could 
not  blow  between  them.  Then  he  was  silent. 

"Well,"  said  Pe  Ontjes. 

"Well,"  said  Kai,  "I  don't  know.  I  can  only  talk 
of  things  which  seem  to  me  important." 

"Talk  of  them,  then,"  said  Anna.  "Your  examina- 
tion, I  suppose?  " 

He  laughed.     "No!  "  he  said.     "  Wieben  Peters." 

"  Is  the  story  of  Wieben  Peters  important?  "  said  Pe 
Ontjes. 

"  We  all  know  that  story — every  child  in  Hilligenlei 
knows  it,"  said  Anna. 

"  No,"  said  he,  "no  one  knows  it.  You  can't  think 
how  I  have  thought  and  thought  about  it,  to  find  the 
truth." 

"Tell  it  us,  then,"  said  Pe  Ontjes. 


N   2 


CHAPTER    XV 

THE  light  south-south-westerly  wind  filled  the  sails ; 
the  fine  rain  fell  slanting  on  the  deck;  the  water  rushed, 
swishing  round  the  ship;  the  Heligoland  light  burned 
clear  in  the  grey,  starless  night. 

"  About  four  hundred  years  ago  Wieben  Peters,  of 
Ditmarsh,  made  the  same  voyage  that  we  are  making 
now — not  in  peace  as  we  three,  but  in  burning  anger 
because  he  thought  that  his  people  had  put  him  in  the 
wrong  where  he  was  right.  This  was  the  case.  But 
the  real  cause  of  the  dissension  lay  in  the  fact  that  his 
was  a  despotic  nature,  for  whom  the  little  farming  state 
had  no  place.  There  they  were  all  masters,  all  equally 
great.  '  What  a  despotic  eye  he  has  !  Look !  he  walks 
as  if  he  were  Count  Rantzau  at  least !  How  sharply 
his  words  ring  out !  I  say,  where  did  he  get  a  coat  of 
that  cut?  Just  look  at  his  long,  yellow  beard!  Let's 
annoy  him  !  '  He  ended  by  roaring  like  a  bull. 

"  He  went  to  sea  with  fifteen  wild,  turbulent  fellows  on 
board.  The  beach  was  lit  up  by  the  flaming  houses  of 
his  opponents.  The  people  shouted  imprecations  after 
the  enemy  of  his  country. 

At  that  time  Heligoland  was  inhabited  by  a  miserable  race 
— the  degenerate  lees  of  the  brave  people  that  had  crossed 
the  sea  to  England.  They  lived  on  the  scanty  herrings  they 
caught,  and  on  rough  nights  they  would  light  a  fire  on  the 
tower  in  the  hope  that  some  ship  might  run  aground  on  the 
sands  or  against  the  cliffs.  In  this  they  were  seldom  grati- 
fied, although  the  parson,  at  whose  feet  they  sat  to  a  man 
every  Sunday,  and  whose  ministrations  were  reserved 
for  them,  prayed  fervently  that  God  would  bless  their 
shores  with  wreckage. 

"  When  Wieben  Peters  ran  into  their  bay  with  a  fresh 
south-easter  and  on  to  the  beach,  they  ran  away  and 
hid  in  the  gorges  and  declivities  of  the  lower  part  of  the 


HOLYLAND  181 

island,  leaving  Wieben  Peters  with  his  fifteen  followers 
master  of  Heligoland. 

"  He  dwelt  in  the  mighty  old  tower  built  by  the  earlier, 
valiant  inhabitants,  and  went  down  and  levied  contribu- 
tions from  his  native  land.  Every  time  he  sallied  forth 
either  a  Ditmarsh  cutter  laden  with  gun-metal  from  Ham- 
burg was  raided  or  a  farm  set  on  fire.  On  his  .return 
he  would  rejoice,  laugh  to  himself,  and  play  with  his 
long  beard,  tying  knots  in  it  and  then  untying  them. 
He  fed  his  soul  on  fierce  hatred,  and  pretended  that  he  was 
satisfied  and  content ;  but  he  suffered  sore. 

"  One  day  he  went  north  with  six  men  on  board  for 
the  sheer  joy  of  sailing,  till  he  came  to  the  Bergen 
heights,  and  there  he  sailed  up  to  see  whether  there  were 
any  ships  from  Ditmarsh  lying  there.  He  inquired  up 
and  down  the  German  quay.  There  was  not  one.  Then, 
in  an  ill-humour,  he  went  into  one  of  the  warehouses  to 
buy  provisions  for  the  return. 

"  Now,  in  this  foreign  country  the  German  merchants 
lived  in  their  warehouses  on  the  quay.  All  the  time  they 
were  closely  watched  and  made  to  feel  that  their  position 
was  not  that  of  masters,  but  of  tolerated  guests.  For 
example,  they  were  not  allowed  to  have  their  wives 
with  them — a  prohibition  which  they  evaded  by  cut- 
ting holes  in  the  wall  into  which  their  beds  were  built, 
and  admitting  the  wives,  who  dwelt  in  the  town,  at 
nights. 

"  It  was  dark  when  Wieben  Peters  entered  the  Ham- 
burg merchant's  room,  and,  not  finding  him  there,  he 
walked  up  and  down,  thinking.  While  he  was  doing  so 
the  little  door  behind  the  bed  opened  and  the  Hamburger's 
wife  crept  in.  Still  on  her  knees,  she  saw  a  strange  man, 
and  followed  him  with  her  eyes.  He  gave  one  rapid 
glance  in  her  direction  and  then  paid  her  no  further  at- 
tention, but  began  to  play  with  his  beard.  Now,  although 
the  day  was  already  far  advanced,  one  long  ray  of  bright 
sunshine  shone  right  across  the  dark  little  room,  striking 
it  at  about  the  height  of  a  man's  head,  and  this  flickering, 
belated  light  played  upon  his  beard  from  time  to  time. 
The  beard  was  so  yellow  that  it  seemed  to  cast  off  a  re- 
flected light  of  its  own,  which  played  over  the  kneeling 
woman's  face  like  so  many  little  sprites  warming  their 
feet  on  her  glowing  eyes  and  cheeks. 


182  HOLYLAND 

"  At  last  the  woman  said  in  a  slow,  difficult  voice, 
'  How  many  knots  can  you  tie  in  your  beard?  ' 

"  He  loosened  the  knife  that  hung  in  his  belt  and  said, 
going  up  to  the  bed,  '  How  many  can  you  make?  ' 

"  Raising  herself  a  little  on  her  knees,  she  plunged 
both  her  hands  in  his  beard  and  began  playing  with  it, 
then  looked  up  at  him  with  an  embarrassed  laugh.  Let- 
ting her  hands  sink,  she  murmured,  '  Ah  !  you — you  are 


a  man 

i  <  < 


Where  is  the  Hamburger?  '  said  he. 

"'Oh,  the  shell-fish!'  said  she,  letting  her  hands 
slip  down  his  body  and  then  hold  him  fast.  She  loved 
him  so. 

"Then  he  cried  wildly,  breathing  hard,  'Come  to  the 
end  of  the  quay  to-night.  I  will  wait  for  you.' 

"  So  that  very  night  she  ran  away  from  the  Hamburg 
merchant,  leapt  on  board  ship,  and  sailed  with  him  to 
Heligoland. 

"Winter  came;  the  wild  west  wind  tore  and  raged 
round  the  island,  and  the  love  which  his  great,  passionate 
heart  lavished  on  the  woman  was  as  strong  and  unruly 
as  the  wind.  Summer  came ;  gentle  winds  breathed  soft 
and  low  round  the  ruddy  cliffs ;  and  the  love  of  his  great, 
deep  heart  for  the  woman  was  as  gentle  and  tender  as 
the  breeze. 

"  So  he  lived,  summer  and  winter,  for  four  years.  Now 
and  then  he  sailed  away,  and  those  who  stayed  behind 
would  see  the  vivid  glow  of  fire  shining  in  the  eastern 
sky,  over  from  Ditmarsh.  Verily  his  native  land  paid 
the  penalty  of  its  sins  !  When  he  returned  he  would  go 
up  to  her  bed  and  rejoice  as  he  gazed  upon  her,  tying 
and  untying  knots  in  his  long  beard  the  while. 

"  So  he  fed  his  heart  on  passionate  love,  and  pretended 
that  he  was  satisfied  and  content.  But  often  he  would 
stand,  looking  with  sombre  eyes  across  to  Ditmarsh, 
and  suffering  sore. 

"  When  he  returned  one  day  with  his  companions  from 
Ditmarsh,  after  having  lightened  the  load  of  a  cutter 
at  Brunsbiittel,  and  emptied  two  farmyards,  the  little 
parson,  who  still  lived  with  the  wretched  remnant  of 
the  people  living  under  the  cliffs,  happened  to  slink 
past,  and,  as  usual,  some  of  the  men,  having  no  respect 
for  the  Church  or  its  gifts,  began  to  throw  dead  fish  at 


HOLYLAND  183 

the  stout  little  man's  head.  Wieben  Peters  stopped  them 
sharply  and  severely.  A  priest  was  not  a  fit  subject  for 
mockery,  he  said. 

"  They  looked  at  one  another  in  astonishment. 

;<  The  next  Sunday  the  little  priest  clambered  up  to 
the  heights  to  hold  a  service  for  the  wild  horde  there. 
Wieben  Peters  and  the  woman  from  Bergen  and  his  chil- 
dren by  her,  the  men  and  the  women  they  had  with  them, 
sat  at  the  lee  side  of  the  tower,  shyly  imitating  Wieben 
Peters'  actions,  folding  their  hard  hands  when  he  did, 
murmuring  the  prayers  they  could  not  comprehend. 
When  the  service  was  at  an  end  they  stepped  aside  and 
said  to  one  another  between  their  teeth,  in  toneless  voices 
and  without  moving  their  lips,  '  He'll  go  down  hill  now. 
He's  become  holy.  It's  all  up  !  ' 

"  Nevertheless,  they  made  some  raids  of  the  good  old 
sort  over  to  Ditmarsh  and  brought  rich  booty  home,  and 
so  things  went  on  for  a  time. 

"  But  one  day  Wieben  Peters  took  the  parson  aside, 
and,  looking  at  him  as  if  he  wanted  to  penetrate  behind 
his  eyes  to  the  inside  of  his  head,  said,  '  It  isn't  enough. 
You  must  know  what  more  I  must  do. ' 

"  At  first  the  priest  was  terrified,  but  then  he  gave 
the  accursed  counsel,  '  Give  half  the  gold  and  silver  you 
have  stolen  to  the  cathedral  in  Hamburg — that  will  bring 
you  peace.' 

"So  it  was  done.  Again  they  made  a  raid  to  Dit- 
marsh and  brought  rich  booty  home,  and  things  went  on 
smoothly  for  a  time.  Yet  he  was  not  cheerful.  He  felt 
no  inclination  to  play  with  his  beard  and  tie  knots  in  it. 
So  a  few  months  later  he  again  took  the  priest  aside  and 
said  to  him  what  he  had  said  before.  The  parson  went 
down  to  the  lower  part  of  the  island  and  sat  a  whole  day 
pondering  in  the  rotten  old  boat  in  which  he  dwelt. 
He  could  not  understand  a  man  of  this  sort.  Then  he 
went  up  again,  shaking  his  head  and  groaning,  and  this 
time  he  had  to  give  the  real  answer.  '  You  must  give  up 
all  that  you  possess  and  earn  your  bread  by  the  work  of 
your  hands,  live  a  pure,  sinless  life,  begging  God  for 
forgiveness  of  your  transgressions.' 

"And  it  had  to  be  done.  All  their  goods  were  secretly 
despatched  to  Ditmarsh.  The  women  were  married  or 
dismissed.  There  were  to  be  no  hard  deeds,  no  rough 


184  HOLYLAND 

words,  no  raids  over  sea.  Every  man  was  to  fish  all  day 
long.  Morning  and  evening  fervent  prayer,  '  God  have 
mercy,  Lord  have  mercy. '  That  was  the  order  of  the  day. 

"  Next  night  the  best  of  his  comrades  filled  the  best 
cutter  with  the  best  treasures,  and  were  for  sailing  away. 
But  the  woman  intervened,  and  begged  them  to  stand  by 
him.  She  would  see  that  their  goods  were  not  sent  away 
at  once.  They  remained. 

"  Some,  it  must  be  admitted,  did  really  come  to  God. 
Into  their  eyes  there  came  an  expression  at  once  serious 
and  beautiful.  From  morning  to  night  they  were  eager 
to  help  others,  and  their  laughter  was  like  the  innocent 
laughter  of  a  child.  Most  of  them,  however,  hung  round 
the  walls  of  the  tower  in  gloomy  silence,  staring  dully 
across  the  sea. 

And  Wieben  ?  No  !  he  did  not  come  to  God.  He  went 
about  with  a  dark  look  on  his  face,  staring  eastwards, 
towards  Ditmarsh.  There  was  no  deep,  beautiful  expres- 
sion in  his  eyes.  He  suffered  sore. 

' '  Then  the  woman  saw  the  only  way  to  help  him — the 
way  she  had  long  foreseen.  She  loved  him  as  passionately 
as  on  that  first  evening  when  she  knelt  on  the  Hamburg 
merchant's  bed.  She  loved  him  with  the  whole  force 
and  intensity  of  her  nature — with  a  love  that  thought  only 
of  him  and  nothing  of  self.  Therefore  she  sent  a  trusty 
messenger  over  to  Ditmarsh  to  say,  '  Wieben  Peters  is 
going  mad  because  you  do  not  come  !  Come  !  ' 

Thirty  men  of  the  best  families  took  counsel  together, 
stocked  a  boat  with  beer  and  bacon  enough,  and  sailed  for 
the  island  with  a  favourable  breeze. 

"As  so  often  Wieben  Peters  stood  on  the  tower  with 
his  wife  by  his  side,  gazing  eastwards,  and  he  saw  the 
boat  and  all  the  men  beneath  the  two  big  sails,  and  re- 
cognised the  Ditmarsh  standard  aloft.  Then  he  rejoiced 
— rejoiced  so  that  his  eyes  shone  with  joy.  And  his  joy  grew 
as  he  recognised  the  men,  one  by  one,  and  saw  that  they 
belonged  to  the  best  families.  He  laughed,  and  began 
to  knot  his  beard.  Three  knots  in  each  strand,  says  the 
chronicle.  Then  he  sent  his  wife  and  children  and  all 
the  other  women  to  the  extreme  end  of  the  cliff,  where 
he  had  built  them  a  shelter,  and  armed  himself  for  de- 
fence. 

"  His  aim  was  to  prevent  the  men  from  Ditmarsh  from 


HOLYLAND  185 

climbing  into  the  upper  part  of  the  island,  but  the 
wretched  folk  below  snowed  them  a  secret  way,  and  he 
with  his  twenty  companions  had  to  retire  to  the  tower. 
Three  or  four  of  the  assailants  fell.  The  others  drove 
in  the  door,  killed  some,  and  took  the  rest  prisoners. 
Wieben  Peters  himself  sped  alone  up  the  staircase,  shut- 
ting the  trap  door  behind  him  with  the  great  bows.  They 
shot  from  below  through  the  planks  till  all  was  quiet 
overhead  and  blood  dripped  down. 

"  Then  they  went  up  the  steps,  but  no  one  was  anxious 
to  go  forward,  thinking  that  the  first  man  to  put  his  head 
through  the  trap  door  would  get  a  blow  that  would  last 
him  all  his  life.  At  last  Watt,  of  Dreisprung,  a  great, 
tall  fellow — his  long-legged  descendants  are  all  over  the 
countryside  to-day — plucked  up  courage  and  opened  the 
door. 

"There,  on  his  back,  lay  Wieben  Peters,  stretched  out 
all  his  length,  gasping  heavily.  '  Come  on  !  '  he  said, 
looking  at  them  in  turn  as  they  came  through  the  trap 
door  with  eyes  from  which  even  imminent  death  had  not 
chased  the  joyful  interest,  whispering  the  name  and 
family  of  each.  They  stayed  by  with  him  all  evening. 
Most  of  them,  indeed,  sat  below,  round  the  beer  cask, 
but  all  the  time  some  sat  upstairs  with  him,  each  relating 
to  him  what  had  happened  in  his  family  and  in  the  other 
important  families,  the  deaths  and  births,  the  quarrels, 
the  feasts,  the  marriages,  he  listening  greedily  with  un- 
blinking eyes,  greedy  of  looking  into  their  faces. 

"  And  they  had  much  to  ask  him  in  their  turn.  They 
wanted  details  of  this  raid  and  that,  rejoicing  in  his 
success,  and  saying,  '  You  were  a  thorn  in  our  side ! 
You're  a  great  man.' 

"  His  eyes  laughed.  'Tell  me,'  he  said  softly;  'why 
did  you  not  come  before?  I  longed  for  you  to  come  ! 
It  was  scandalous  the  way  you  put  up  with  everything  ! 
You're  a  set  of  mealbags  !  ' 

"'Don't  you  see,  we  decided  to  let  you  really  get 
together  a  lot  of  booty,  so  as  to  make  it  worth  while  to 
come. ' 

"  His  eyes  still  laughed. 

"  '  It  was  fearfully  stupid  of  you,'  they  said,  'to  let 
such  a  lot  of  good  stuff  go  to  the  fat  Hamburgers.  You 
might  have  known  we  should  come  and  fetch  it  back  !  ' 


i86  HOLYLAND 

"  His  eyes  laughed  more.  Towards  midnight  they 
shouted  up  from  below,  '  Wieben,  we've  got  hold  of  a 
parson.  Do  you  want  him  ?  ' 

"  He  shook  his  head.  '  Everything  is  in  order,'  he 
said. 

"  '  So  we  think,'  said  they. 

"  So  they  talked  and  told  stories  and  drank.  When 
he  could  no  longer  take  a  share,  and  began  to  breathe 
hard  and  rattle  in  his  throat,  they  all  went  below  and 
drank,  one  coming  up  from  time  to  time  to  see  how  he 
did.  When  the  morning  rose  across  the  sea,  to  the  east, 
above  his  native  land,  grey  at  first  and  pale  as  a  new- 
born babe,  then,  gradually  growing  bright  and  laughing, 
he  died. 

"  The  woman  from  Bergen,  who  came  from  Friesland 
by  birth,  remained  upon  the  island,  cast  the  parson  and 
his  wretched  folk  into  the  sea,  and  brought  up  her  tall 
children — a  new  race  to  people  the  land,  brave  and  strong 
and  prudent.  All  the  people  with  curious  names  on  the 
island,  Hunken,  Haien,  etc.,  are  descended  from  her. 
Their  faces  look  as  if  they  had  been  carved  by  a  rather 
unskilful  carpenter  driven  mad  by  this  evil  world." 

The  wind  had  got  up,  and  the  rain  fell  more  steadily ; 
the  light  shone  clear  to  the  right  of  the  mainsail,  gleam- 
ing high  and  wide  over  the  sounding  darkness. 

"  Yes,"  said  Kai  Jans;  "  the  parson's  last  counsel  was 
right.  One  must  renounce  all,  suffer  all,  live  a  pure  life 
in  poverty.  Only  so  can  one  come  before  God  pure  as 
a  child.  It  says  so  plainly  in  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount. 
But  he  could  not  do  it.  And  I — I  can't  do  it,  either.  I 
hardly  believe  that  the  Saviour  Himself  could.  Why? 
There  is  something  in  human  nature,  and  something  good, 
too,  that  fights  against  it.  That  kind  of  holiness  of  life 
is  worthless.  There  is  something  wrong  in  it." 

"So,"  said  Anna,  "that's  what  you  brood  about  in 
Berlin — Wieben  Peters,  and  that  sort  of  thing  !  " 

"Oh,"  he  said,  "you're  not  to  imagine  that  I'm  a 
dreamer — a  sentimentalist !  I  am  looking  on  at  life 
there." 

"  Especially  the  girls  !    '  said  Anna. 

"  It's  almost  dangerous  to  confess  as  much,  but  I  do 
not  deny  it.  If  I  were  to  say  I  prize  nothing  so  much 
as  a  good  dinner,  or  I  think  nothing  so  important  as  a 


HOLYLAND  187 

properly  starched  collar,  I  should  be  considered  a  person 
of  sense;  but  if  I  say  I  don't  think  there  is  anything 
better  than  a  pretty  young  girl,  I  am  looked  upon  as  a 
doubtful  character.  And  yet,  is  there  anything  in  nature 
so  beautiful,  so  glorious?  Do  you  know,  Pe  Ontjes,  I 
go  sometimes  to  the  museum  or  the  national  gallery,  and 
I'm  happy  enough  there;  but  I  can  tell  you  if  I  see  a 
pretty  graceful  girl  standing  in  front  of  one  of  the  pic- 
tures everything  on  the  walls  and  round  about  is  nothing 
to  me  in  comparison." 

"  I  quite  agree  with  you,"  said  Pe  Ontjes,  "and  I  am 
sure  Anna  has  nothing  to  say  against  it.  Wha't  else  do 
you  find  interesting  in  Berlin?  " 

"  Oh !  the  streets,  the  crowd,  the  buildings,  the 
soldiers,  the  theatre;  but  far  the  most  of  all,  people — 
individuals." 

"  How  do  you  mean?  "  said  Pe  Ontjes. 

"Well,  I  cannot  help  watching  them,  to  try  to  find 
out  how  they  live  and  what  they  think  about.  I  can 
walk  up  and  down  the  streets  for  hours — not  only  Unter 
den  Linden,  but  in  the  north,  where  I  live — thinking  about 
the  people  I  see,  picturing  their  past  to  myself,  and  their 
way  of  life  and  their  feelings.  I  know  ever  so  many  of 
the  workmen's  families  among  whom  I  live — the  men 
and  their  wives  and  children  too." 

"So  that's  how  you  occupy  yourself,"  said  Anna, 
"with  girls  in  picture  galleries,  and  people  on  the  street, 
and  workmen's  families  !  You  went  to  Berlin  for  rather 
a  different  purpose,  you  must  admit.  Honestly  now — 
one  must  confess  it." 

"You  mean,  to  study  theology,"  said  Kai,  looking 
thoughtfully  out  to  sea.  "  Well,  I  do  study  theology, 
and  1  shall  pass  my  examination  soon,  when  the  time 
comes,  and  creditably  enough,  too.  But  I  will  tell  you 
something  that  is  rather  strange.  Mark,  Anna.  You 
know  our  people  are  more  and  more  falling  away  from 
the  old  belief.  Science  is  undermining  Catholicism  and 
Protestantism  alike.  Something  new  must,  and  will, 
come.  The  question  is,  am  I  not  doing  right  in  getting 
to  know  what  men  are  nowadays?  Think!  The  alder- 
man has  no  religion,  or  one  not  worth  calling  by  that 
name.-  No  more  has  the  baker's  boy.  And  certainly  the 
workman's  wife  has  none  at  all.  You  would  be  right  to 


i88  HOLYLAND 

blame  me  if  I  were  simply  lounging  about  Berlin  out  of 
idleness  or  ennui ;  but  what  I  do  is  to  stand  in  the  stream 
of  humanity,  listening  to  its  roar,  hearing  in  that  roar 
the  old  question,  '  Whence  came  ye,  whither  go  ye,  chil- 
dren of  men?  '  And  I  can  hear  this  question  more  clearly, 
more  profoundly  than  other  men.  I  am  more  troubled 
by  it  than  other  men. ' ' 

"Yes,"  said  Anna,  "I  see.  That's  the  cause  of  it 
all.  Three  and  a  half  years  ago,  at  the  restaurant,  you 
gave  it  all  up.  Now  you  have  begun  again  to  look  for 
Hilligenlei. " 

"Well,  suppose  I  have;  what  have  you  to  say  against 
it?" 

"Nothing  at  all!  "  they  cried  earnestly.  "Nothing. 
Seek  on." 

"  Now,  Anna,"  said  Pe  Ontjes,  "you  must  go  to  the 
cabin.  Come,  I'll  show  you  the  sleeping  accommoda- 
tion. We  must  reef  up  afterwards,  Kai. " 

"  Don't  be  too  long,"  said  Kai.  "  The  wind  is  veering 
to  the  west,  and  there  is  more  swell  on.  We  may  have 
a  bad  time  yet. " 

When  they  came  into  the  cramped  little  room  he  struck 
a  light  and  then  sat  down  on  the  locker,  saying,  "  Well, 
is  there  perfect  peace  between  us  now?  Come  here!" 

He  drew  her  on  to  his  knee.  She  played  shyly  with  the 
lapels  of  his  coat,  looking  up  at  him  with  a  clear,  affec- 
tionate gaze  and  saying  with  a  deep  thrill  in  her  voice, 
"  How  sweet  it  is  to  have  someone  belonging  to  one  !  " 

Lost  in  happy  wonder,  he  feasted  his  eyes  on  her  beauty 
and  her  gentleness,  lifting  his  free  hand  slowly  to  stroke 
her  fair  hair,  again  and  again,  in  tender  silence.  Then 
gradually  he  drew  her  close  and  closer  to  him. 

"  Your  breath  is  so  sweet,  like  the  morning  wind,"  he 
said. 

"  Of  course,  you  silly  boy,  when  one  is  young  and 
clean  !  " 

"  And  your  lips  taste  of  salt." 

"And  yours  too — that^s  the  sea  wind,"  she  said. 

"  Oh  !  your  beautiful  eyes  !  how  they  shine  !  and  your 
breath  is  sweet — dear  little  girl !  " 

"  You  are  so  dear  to  me,"  she  said  in  a  difficult  voice. 

"Darling,  I  never  dreamed  that  you  were  so  pas- 
sionate. Oh  !  darling  !  ' ' 


HOLYLAND  189 

' '  Oh  !  do  you  mind  ?  ' '  she  cried  in  a  strangled  voice. 
"  I  can't  help  it !  I  am  like  that !  " 

"You  dear,  darling  baby!  Don't  you  know  I  would 
throw  you  overboard  if  you  weren't  like  that!"  He 
drew  her  closer  to  him  and  kissed  her. 

"  Oh  !  Pe  Ontjes  !  "  said  she  softly,  hiding  her  face 
in  his  shoulder.  "Your  yellow  beard!  how  I  love  it! 
If  you  had  been  a  shellfish,  a  solitary,  ah  !  what  a  wretched 
look-out  had  that  been  for  me  !  Oh  !  dear,  dear  one  !  ' ' 

He  laughed  and  drew  her  to  him  again.  "  You  dare  to 
talk  to  me  of  shellfish  !  "  he  said.  "  There  !  now  I  must 
go  up  and  you  to  sleep." 

"  Oh  !  stay  a  little.  You  must  show  me  how  to  ar- 
range here.  I  will  only  take  off  my  dress  and  lie  down." 
She  did  so,  laughing.  "  There — there  is  a  good  deal 
of  swell,  but  I  shall  go  to  sleep.  Stay  just  a  little  with 
me.  Oh !  what  a  lovely  day  to-morrow  will  be,  Pe ! 
I'm  not  grateful — you  mustn't  imagine  that  I  am.  I 
am  worth  as  much  as  you  are.  But  I  am  happy  through 
you,  and  I  think  you  are  happy  through  me.  .  .  Suppose 
we  meet  Pete  in  the  morning?  How  glad  mother  will 
be !  She  has  not  had  much  to  be  glad  about  in  the  last 
few  years.  And  your  parents — they  will  be  glad,  too,  I 
know,  although  I  have  no  money.  And  we  shall  live  in 
Reimer's  house?" 

They  began  to  talk  about  the  house,  and  could  not 
enough  discuss  how  it  should  be  arranged,  and  they  live 
in  it,  holding  one  another's  hands  the  while,  with  their 
eyes  gazing  into  one  another's  faces  by  the  dim  light  of 
the  lamp. 

"  I  really  must  go  on  deck  now,  and  you  must  go  to 
sleep,"  said  he.  He  took  her  in  his  arms  and  kissed  her. 
It  was  bliss  to  be  in  his  arms. 

"I  wonder  so  that  you  are  so  dear  to  me!  "  she 
said.  "  I  have  always  thought  about  it.  I  was  afraid 
you  could  only  care  for  a  sack  of  maize  or  the  Gude 
Wife." 

"  Dear,  I  am  like  other  men — no  different.  To  have 
the  one  you  love  in  your  arms,  and  know  she  loves  you — 
that  sets  a  man  on  fire  !  "  He  kissed  her  passionately. 
"  I  never  want  to  leave  you." 

She  embraced  him,  saying,  "Oh,  Pe  Ontjes,  I  love 
you  terribly  much,  and  I  would  go  through  fire  for  any- 


190  HOLYLAND 

one  I  love.     But,  Pe  Ontjes — I  must  always,  always  be 
able  to  be  proud  of  you." 

Their  passion  was  ready  to  leap  into  flame  again,  but 
all  at  once  the  vessel  began  to  roll  heavily  from  side  to 
side,  and  he  had  to  leave  her  to  go  on  deck. 

When  he  looked  about  him  he  saw  Kai  Jans  and  the 
boy  at  work  on  the  sails.  The  light  was  high  above  them 
in  the  sky,  to  the  starboard  side,  the  wind  had  grown 
stronger  and  veered  to  the  west.  The  heavy  swell  tossed 
the  light  vessel  from  side  to  side.  With  Pe  Ontjes'  aid 
they  got  her  safely  before  the  wind. 

"  There!  "  said  Kai,  sitting  down  at  the  helm  beside 
Pe.  "  We  shall  be  in  Cuxhaven  in  five  hours,  shan't 
we?" 

"With  luck,"  said  Pe  Ontjes,  looking  to  the  south- 
west. "  The  storm  is  abating." 

They  sat  side  by  side,  saying  little,  the  wind  driving 
between  them.  Squalls  of  driving  rain  came  on,  getting 
more  violent  as  the  morning  broke.  They  watched  until 
the  grey  of  dawn,  their  lives  in  their  hands. 

Just  as  day  was  breaking  and  the  vessel  had  come 
through  a  violent  squall,  Anna  Boje  appeared  at  the  hatch- 
way, red  with  sleep,  looking  anxiously  about  her.  "  Oh  !  I 
have  slept  so  sound,"  she  said.  "  I  don't  know  how  I 
could.  The  noise  just  now  waked  me  up."  They  did  not 
catch  what  she  said,  but  Kai  sprang  to  his  feet,  helped  her 
up,  shut  down  the  hatchway,  and  led  her  to  the  helm. 

"  She  will  get  wet  through,"  said  Pe. 

"  I  don't  mind  so  long  as  I  am  with  you  both." 

They  wrapped  her  up  in  an  old  wet  oilskin,  and  she  sat 
still,  rather  cramped,  looking  with  her  direct,  serious 
gaze  over  the  dawning  sky  and  the  sea  as  it  came  roaring 
past  from  the  far  distance  in  long  lines  of  mountainous 
white  surf. 

"  Do  you  see  that  light?  "  said  Pe.  "  That's  Neuwerk, 
and  the  next  is  Cuxhaven." 

WThen  they  passed  their  old  love  two  hours  later  the 
signal  ran  outside  the  pilot  house,  "  Storm  from  the 
S.W. ,  turning  to  the  right. "  That  was  about  nine  o'clock. 

Three  hours  later,  about  twelve  o'clock,  the  Grimmers- 
horn  cannons  thundered  over  the  roaring  sea.  The  storm 
had  turned  to  the  north-west.  It  was  a  wild,  dark 
November  day. 


CHAPTER    XVI 

IT  was  on  this  same  fearful,  grey  day  in  November 
that  the  beautiful  Bremen  three-mast  barque,  coming 
from  Iquique  with  a  cargo  of  saltpetre,  failed  to  hold 
her  course  outside  Texel,  and  was  driven  on  to  the 
breakers,  where  she  lay  for  six  hours  with  the  mad,  white 
seadogs  leaping  round  her.  Thousands  of  them  leapt  up, 
barking  and  roaring,  only  to  fall  back  again.  Thousands 
bit  at  her  sides,  howling.  Thousands  more  gnawed 
among  the  sand  at  her  hold,  and  it  was  they  who  caused 
her  death.  She  sank  deeper,  deeper,  ever  deeper  in. 
The  men  tried  to  leave  the  ship — ten  in  one  boat,  ten 
in  the  other.  One  boatload  made  its  way  safely  through 
the  surf;  the  other,  sucked  back  irresistibly,  was  washed 
against  the  walls  of  the  ship  and  smashed.  Nothing 
more  was  seen  of  the  boat,  nothing  more  of  its  crew. 
The  white  dogs  howled  all  night  long. 

It  was  on  this  same  fearful  grey  day  that  the  twelve 
Finkenwarder  fishing-boats  were  torn  from  their  moor- 
ings and  driven  south  of  Heligoland.  On  that  very  morn- 
ing the  passengers  on  board  the  Deutschland  had  ad- 
mired them  as  they  stood  out  to  the  north,  their  beautiful 
brown  sails  defined  against  the  dark  grey  of  the  sea  and 
the  blue-grey  of  the  sky  behind.  In  the  blue-grey  that 
covered  the  whole  span  of  the  heavens  there  stood  great 
white  sails,  stretched  out,  upright,  reaching  from  the 
earth  to  the  highest  arch  of  heaven,  set  for  the  world  to 
sail  with.  About  ten  o'clock  a  heavy  cloud  rose,  low 
down,  on  the  sea,  that  came  on  swiftly,  blindly,  like 
some  huge  grey  owl — pale-yellow  flecks,  like  the  yellow- 
whites  of  evil,  ancient  eyes.  It  came  on,  the  white  spray 
spattering  it. 

They  looked  up  from  their  work,  and  now  they  hastened 
indeed.  How  they  flew  with  their  brown  wings,  the  little 


iQ2  HOLYLAND 

seagulls,  close  to  the  grey,  foaming  waters  !  Bend  now, 
little  ones;  the  great,  old  sea  bird  is  just  above  you. 
Listen  to  the  rustle  of  his  mighty  wings.  He  comes  ! 

They  drew  in  their  wings.  They  bent  down.  He  smote 
twice,  below,  with  a  wild  onset.  Four  beautiful  brown 
wings  floated  on  the  waves. 

It  was  a  dark,  grey  November  day.  The  last  clear  patch 
had  disappeared  by  midday.  The  sea  was  a  tortured  mass 
of  grey-green  water,  the  air  above  torn  by  the  howling 
winds,  crossed  by  icy  rain  and  snow.  The  squalls  followed 
faster  and  faster  on  each  other's  heels. 

Six  torpedo  boats,  long  and  black,  with  their  curved 
decks  of  steel,  struggled  to  fight  their  way  through  the 
wildly  rolling  sea  to  the  mouth  of  the  Elbe.  It  was  of  the 
first  necessity  that  they  should  reach  it  before  the  powerful 
ebb  tide  turned  the  surf  against  them.  On  the  first 
boat  stood  the  commander,  the  funnel  behind  him,  the 
low  castle  in  front,  clad  in  his  shabby,  yellow  oilskins, 
a  stout  English  scarf  round  his  neck,  an  ancient  cap  on 
his  head,  with  storm  flaps  under  his  chin,  his  keen  eyes 
following  every  motion  of  the  sea.  Beside  him  stood  the 
first  officer  with  his  hand  on  the  signal.  Six  men,  in 
diving  suits,  held  on  to  the  railing,  covered  every  now 
and  then  up  to  their  knees  by  the  white  foam.  About  ten 
o'clock  a  man  had  let  loose  of  the  railing  on  tfie  neigh- 
bouring boat  to  let  a  comrade  pass  him.  In  less  than 
the  twinkling  of  an  eye  a  wave  had  dashed  over  him  and 
drawn  him  down.  About  eleven,  just  as  the  commander 
was  bending  down  to  give  an  order  to  the  man  at  the 
wheel,  a  vast  sea  swept  right  over  the  first  boat,  striking 
her  aft  in  the  direct  line  of  her  course,  and,  lifting  up 
the  hatchments  and  the  ship  itself,  cast  her  down  again 
rather  athwart.  Then,  indeed,  what  an  impact !  Head 
over  heels,  driven  on  like  a  dead  fish,  five  men  hanging 
to  the  leeward  bulwarks,  five  being  madly  dashed  about 
by  the  waves,  all  fished  out,  however.  Something  like 
fishing,  that !  But  six  went  to  the  bottom  with  the 
capsized  boat. 

There  they  lay,  in  the  hideous  darkness,  in  the  over- 
turned boat,  up  to  their  shoulders  in  the  water,  driven 
hither  and  thither  by  the  waves. 

The  young  commander  met  his  fate  without  a  murmur. 
With  calm  courage  he  faced  the  loss  of  life  and  all  that 


HOLYLAND  193 

makes  it  precious — mother  and  brothers,  the  green  of  the 
woods,  honour  and  renown  among  his  fellows — satisfied 
to  be  giving  his  life  for  his  country. 

"  Boys,"  he  said  to  the  others,  "  let  us  pray  :  '  Father, 
take  our  souls  to  Thyself  in  Heaven,  and  grant  us  a  quick 
and  speedy  death. '  ' 

He  lies  in  peace  in  the  cathedral  at  Schwerin,  just  as 
they  found  him  in  his  ragged  oilskins  and  long,  rubber 
boots. 

It  was  a  dark,  grey  day,  a  morning  of  struggle  and 
sorrow.  All  over  the  wide  grey  sea  was  there  nothing  to 
make  glad  the  heart  ?  Look  !  With  what  proud  grace 
she  comes  on,  bowing  and  rising  before  the  wind,  her 
sails  furled  to  meet  it,  the  waves  surging  over  the  beak- 
head  !  Look  how  she  cleaves  her  distant  way  through 
cloud  and  rain  and  hail,  over  the  wild,  grey  waters — 
the  Gude  Wife  I 

Last  evening  they  had  left  the  canal,  the  south-wester 
filling  their  sails,  and  about  five  in  the  morning,  when 
they  were  above  Texel,  the  second  mate,  Pete  Boje  of 
Hilligenlei,  was  about  to  steer  an  easterly  course.  But 
Jan  Deeken  came  on  deck,  and,  after  snuffing  the  breeze, 
he  went  down  below  and  actually  came  up  again  with 
his  woollen  cap  ! 

Once  more  they  all  said,  "  He's  mistaken  this  time, 
thank  Heaven  !  He's  mistaken  !  " 

He  stamped  up  and  down  between  the  taffrail  and  the 
helm  with  his  hands  in  his  pockets,  looking  up  to  spit 
now  and  then.  Half  an  hour  later  he  said  in  passing  to 
Pete  Boje,  "Pull  her  to  the  north,  mate."  He  nodded 
vaguely  towards  the  north.  Pete  did  as  he  was  told, 
not  without  a  secret  shake  of  the  head. 

By  ten  o'clock  a  gale  was  blowing  from  the  south- 
west with  a  tendency  to  turn  north,  which  made  it  in 
the  highest  degree  advisable  to  keep  as  far  as  possible 
from  the  confounded  Frisian  shallows,  and  proved  to 
the  mate  that  the  old  man's  withered  little  nose  had  not 
yet  begun  to  play  him  false.  He  pointed  with  his  thumb 
to  a  sailing-vessel  towards  the  north.  "  Did  you  see  her, 
mate?  That  craft  is  the  Gude  Man!  "  The  Gude  Man 
was  the  Gude  Wife's  brother,  and  belonged  to  the 
same  firm.  "  Captain  Winckel  was  once  mate  under 
me;  but  there  was  no  confidence  between  us.  He 


194  HOLYLAND 

always  knew  best !  "  He  looked  at  Pete  from  under  his 
eyes. 

"  Seeing  is  better  than  believing,  I  think,"  said  Pete. 

"  That's  a  sound  rule  on  the  whole,"  said  the  captain. 

An  hour  later  the  gale  had  turned  to  the  north-west, 
and  the  two  proud  ships,  not  a  mile  distant  from  one 
another,  rode  side  by  side  through  the  raging  sea  to 
Heligoland,  their  sails  full  to  bursting ;  the  wind  whistling 
and  howling  in  the  rigging,  while  squalls  of  hail  and  rain 
following  one  another  in  quick  succession  made  it  impos- 
sible to  see  far  ahead. 

An  hour  later,  when  it  cleared  up,  the  Gude  Wife  had 
ported  her  helm  still  more,  and  all  her  men  were  on  deck. 
Soon  afterwards  the  pilot-boat  appeared,  and  first  the 
Gude  Man  and  then  the  Gude  Wife  took  the  pilot  on 
board  with  considerable  difficulty,  the  Gude  Wife  turn- 
ing right  round.  A  new  squall  arose,  tearing-  wildly 
over  the  sea.  The  heavy  hail  beat  and  rattled  on  the 
deck.  Heavy  seas  dashed  amidship.  The  men  were  huddled 
together  aft.  The  air  was  so  thick  with  hail,  so  darkened 
by  storm  clouds  that  concealed  the  sun,  that  they  could 
only  see  as  far  as  where  the  foaming  water  was  jumping 
up  against  the  cabin.  And  so  it  went  on  for  an  hour. 
Then  the  sky  cleared  a  little,  and  the  storm  abated,  and 
they  could  look  about  them. 

There  lay  the  Gude  Man,  stern  forward,  on  her  side, 
all  the  forward  tackle  apparently  broken  down.  Behind 
the  dismembered  vessel  the  cliffs  of  Heligoland  were 
shadowed  forth.  The  captain  expectorated,  his  eyes 
fixed  on  her  :  "  Lift  up  !  That  looks  bad  !  "  he  said. 

Slowly  the  Gude  Wife  came  alongside.  Every  man 
was  on  the  qui  vive.  Pete's  eyes  seemed  ready  to  dart 
out  of  his  head. 

The  captain  handed  him  his  binocular.  "  Look 
across  !  "  he  said. 

"They've  no  captain,"  said  Pete,  "and  no  mate. 
They're  short  of  men,  captain  !  " 

"  It's  lucky  we're  just  by  Heligoland,"  said  the  captain 
drily. 

At  that  moment  came  a  gust  of  wind.  "  Look  !  the 
sharks !  "  cried  the  first  mate,  as  a  number  of  close- 
reefed  boats  from  Heligoland  appeared  to  the  left  of  the 
Gude  Man. 


HOLYLAND  195 

Jan  Deeken  stared  across  with  a  muttered  oath.  The 
Gude  Wife  lay  along  the  left-hand  side  of  the  Gude  Man. 
"  Is  there  water  enough,  pilot?  " 

"All  right,  captain." 

Pete  Boje  cast  a  rapid  glance  at  the  canoe  on  the  hatch- 
way. "  Captain?  " 

"  I  can't  take  the  responsibility,"  said  Deeken,  shaking 
his  head. 

"  Impossible,"  said  the  first  mate,  and  the  grey- 
bearded  pilot  shook  his  head. 

Pete's  eyes  flew  from  the  Gude  Man  to  Deeken 's  rugged 
face  and  back.  The  Gude  Man's  deck  was  a  mass  of 
splintered  yards  and  tangled  rigging. 

"  Captain?  "  he  almost  screamed. 

Deeken  shook  his  head.     "  No  good  !  " 

Pete  tore  off  his  oilskins  and  his  coat.  "  Captain,  I 
— I  must !  "  He  struck  his  chest  again  and  again. 

"  Why?  "  said  the  skipper,  expectorating. 

"  I  must!" 

"Then  do  it,  if  you  can't  help,"  said  the  skipper 
sourly. 

"  Out  with  the  boat !     Who's  coming  with  me?  " 

Deeken  did  not  turn  his  head.      "  Tops'l  back  !  " 

The  boat  was  launched.  In  sprang  Pete  and  two  others. 
The  men  stood  crowded  together  by  the  taffrail,  a  mass 
of  glistening  oilskins  and  sou 'westers,  to  stare  at.  the 
boat,  bobbing  up  and  down  like  a  cork. 

"  Boy,  boy,  it  is  no  good  !  Good  Heavens  !  what  a 
mad  fellow  !  He  is  quite  cracked  !  It's  all  right,  though  ! 
she's  still  afloat.  And  there  a  Heligolander  at  the  stern 
— he  can  help  them  !  " 

"  They're  a  damned  mad  lot !  " 

"  I  say  !  look  at  the.  Heligolander  !  do  you  see?  " 

"He's  got  them  !  " 

"There's  one;  the  other  two  are  gone — drowned." 

Jan  Deeken  had  not  looked.  When  he  heard  what  the 
men  were  saying  he  said  in  his  dry  voice,  "  East,  south- 
east," his  eyes  fixed  on  the  chart. 

A  quarter  of  an  hour  later,  when  Pete  and  the  two 
Heligolanders  climbed  on  to  the  deck  of  the  Gude  Man, 
a  new  squall,  rising  once  more,  covered  the  ship  with 
the  awful  rush  of  hungry  water. 

The  eldest  of  the  sailors  ran  up  to  him.     "  The  captain 

o  2 


196  HOLYLAND 

is    deadly    sick.     The    mate    and    four    men    are 

_1  J  J 

under. 

'Is  the  helm  all  right?" 
'Yes." 

'  Any  leakage?  " 
'No." 

'  To  the  pumps  !  ' ' 
'Cargo?" 

'  Wool — washed  away. ' ' 

'  I,  mate  of  the  Gude  Wife,  am  in  command." 
The  sailor  came  up  to  Pete.     "  Two  feet  of  water  in 
the  pumps  !  " 

"  Pilot,  make  for  the  Elbe." 

Up  came  Hunke  Heine,  or  Heine  Hunke,  or  whatever 
his  name  was,  biting  his  lips  till  there  was  nothing  of 
them  to  be  seen,  and  said,  "  Mate  !  that's  no  good  !  we 
must  put  ashore  !  " 

Then  Pete  laughed  all  over  his  face. 
"  Larboard  watch  and  four  Heligolanders  to  the 
pumps  !  Starboard  watch,  clear  the  decks  !  "  The  others 
he  sent  down  into  the  hold.  They  thought,  "  If  we  had 
only  left  the  damned  fellow  to  drown  !  "  and  went  about 
their  duty  in  silence,  doing  it  like  men. 

For  four  hours  they  stood  on  the  precipitous  deck,  the 
sea  washing  over  it,  and  worked  for  their  lives,  with 
their  eyes  open  and  their  hands  alert.  The  mate  of  the 
Gude  Wife  stood  by  the  helmsman,  glass  in  hand,  in  his 
dripping  clothes,  stiff  with  cold,  looking  out  for  help. 

Then,  when  evening  came,  and  it  was  almost  dark, 
two  tow-boats  appeared  by  the  Scharhorn  heights,  sent 
from  the  shipowner. 

A  few  hours  later  Anna  Boje  came  running  up,  having 
heard  at  the  house  where  she  was  lodging  that  the  Gude 
Wife  had  come  in.  She  had  rushed  past  the  signal-house 
in  the  wind  and  the  driving  rain,  wrapped  in  Anna 
Marten's  heavy  coat  and  on  her  head  a  bright  handkerchief, 
lent  her  by  the  landlady,  down  to  the  quay.  There 
she  saw  the  dismantled  ship.  Three  men  in  oilskins  were 
standing,  talking  together,  by  one  of  the  boats.  She 
went  up  and  asked  them.  Hearing  the  voice,  the  youngest 
turned  round,  and  they  recognised  one  another. 

At  first  he  was  astonished  by  her  appearance.  "  Mother 
isn't  ill,  is  she?  " 


HOLYLAND  197 

She  looked  at  him  with  laughing  eyes.  "  No;  they're 
all  well." 

He  walked  a  few  steps  aside  with  her  and  said,  "  What 
is  it,  Anna?  You're  very  strange  !  " 

So  she  told  him  what  had  happened.  He  was  de- 
lighted, and  asked  all  sorts  of  questions.  "  It's  lovely," 
he  said,  "  that  you're  to  get  married  so  easily  and 
smoothly.  It's  always  uncertain  with  a  girl." 

"  What  do  you  mean?  " 

"Well,"  he  said,  "one  is  wanton;  another  suffers 
from  hopeless  love;  a  third  becomes  an  old  maid,  and 
queer  at  that.  But  you've  come  easily  and  smoothly  into 
harbour,  and  I  am  ever  so  glad  !  " 

"You  don't  know,  Pete,"  she  said  gravely,  "  whether 
it  has  been  so  smooth  and  easy.  You've  been  far  away 
all  the  time.  Even  if  you'd  sat  by  my  bed  every  evening 
you'd  never  have  seen.  What  does  a  brother  know  of  his 
sister?  But  who's  that?  Your  dear  brother-in-law?  " 

On  the  same  evening,  while  the  storm  rose  still  higher 
and  men  struggled  desperately  for  their  lives  upon 
the  sea,  Pete  Boje  was  talking  to  the  shipowner,  who 
had  come  to  Cuxhaven  in  his  anxiety  for  the  fate  of  his 
two  splendid  ships. 

"  What  I  consider  of  most  importance,"  said  the  quiet 
elderly  man,  "  is  not  your  invention  of  improvements 
which  seem  to  work  well,  or  your  having  performed  an 
action  to-day  which,  though  it  has  brought  in  a  consider- 
able sum  of  money  to  me  and  to  yourself,  could  have  been 
accomplished  by  a  man  whose  ability  was  not  accom- 
panied by  any  steadfastness  of  purpose ;  but  rather  that  I 
feel  certain  that  you  would  carry  out  anything  you  under- 
took with  that  ability,  thoroughness,  and  constant  atten- 
tion which  comes  from  devotion  to  a  thing  for  its  own 
sake.  Such  men  are  rare,  and  they  are  of  great  value  to 
the  head  of  a  big  undertaking.  It  is  on  that  account  that 
I  purpose,  if  you  agree,  to  send  you  at  once  to  Gateshead 
to  examine  the  three-master  that  is  now  in  the  yard  there. 
I  am  sending  some  one  who  knows  how  to  use  his  eyes 
....  I  should  be  glad  not  to  have  any  more  ships  built 
there." 

On  the  same  evening,  while  the  storm  howled,  making 
more  than  one  young  wife  a  widow,  Anna  Boje  found  rest, 
Anna  whose  heart  beat  so  passionately  behind  the  quiet 


198  HOLYLAND 

nobility  of  her  face,  the  shy  purity  of  her  eyes.  After  they 
had  sat  together  some  time  in  the  coffee-room  he  took  her 
up  to  her  room,  and  was  going  away. 

"  Good-night,  gude  wife,"  he  said,  kissing  her. 

"  Good-night,  gude  man,"  said  she,  accepting  the  kiss. 

But  they  could  not  let  each  other  go;  a  flame^  burned  up 
within  them  in  whose  happy  glow  they  sat  blissfully  to- 
gether far  into  the  night ;  and  as  they  sat  Anna  thought : 
"  Kai  Jans  would  never  have  done  for  me — think  how  he 
broods  and  tortures  himself.  No,  I  am  in  the  Holyland 
now  !  ' '  she  laughed  softly. 

Next  evening  they  went  by  train  to  Hilligenlei,  arriving 
in  the  dark.  Pe  and  Anna  walked  on  in  front :  Pete  and 
Kai  behind.  When  they  reached  the  turning  from  the 
station  road  into  the  harbour  street  Kai  broke  the  long 
silence  by  saying  "  Tell  me — what  did  you  think  of  when 
you  jumped  overboard  yesterday  afternoon?  I  want  so 
much  to  know?  " 

"  What  do  you  mean?  "  said  Pete  in  his  quick  fashion. 
"What  did  I  think  of?  Money,  of  course.  That  jump 
earned  me  at  least  two  hundred  and  fifty  pounds.  Money 
and  advancement,  that's  what  I  thought  of." 

"  You  did  not  think  of  anything  else?  I  mean,  the  par- 
lous plight  of  the  men.  .  .  ?  " 

"  No,"  said  Pete  in  some  astonishment.  "  No,  I  didn't 
think  about  that.  By  sailing  away  from  Heligoland  in 
that  leaky  ship  I  put  them  in  a  much  more  dangerous 
plight.  No,  I  thought  of  the  value  of  the  ship  and  the 
cargo.  I  thought  of  myself,  that  is  to  say." 

' '  What  about  those  two  men  who  were  drowned  ? 
Those  two  boys  are  being  tossed  up  and  down  by  the 
waves  now." 

"  What  has  that  got  to  do  with  me?  "  said  Pete  in 
angry  surprise.  "  They  chose  to  come  !  " 

"  Yes,  because  they  trusted  you.'* 

"  Trusted  me  !     Nonsense.     They  wanted  the  money. " 

"  Indeed,"  said  Kai,  turning  away. 

At  that  moment  a  man  came  up  to  them  whom  neither 
of  them  recognised  in  the  darkness. 

"  Have  you  heard  about  the  death  of  the  young 
Mecklenburger?  The  sixth  man  who  went  down  at  the 
same  time  told  us.  He  said  '  Boys,  let  us  pray,'  and  then 
he  recommended  his  soul  to  God,  and  begged  for  a  speedy 


HOLYLAND  199 

death.  Here  in  Hilligenlei  one  hears  such  a  lot  of  bosh 
about  '  Holyland,'  everlastingly  '  Holyland  '  :  seriously 
in  church  and  jestingly  on  the  skittle  ground;  but  this 
....  this  seemed  to  me  a  real  leap  out  of  darkness  and 
terror  right  into  the  '  Holyland. '  '  With  these  words  the 
man  went  on  his  way. 

"  That  was  good  !  "  cried  Kai  Jans  aloud.  "  Oh,  that 
was  good. ' '  And  from  the  sound  of  his  voice  it  was 
audible  that  the  lump  in  his  throat  had  gone.  He  went 
down  the  harbour  street  without  a  word  to  Pete. 

Pe  Ontjes  and  Anna  had  gone  on  ahead ;  they  found  the 
mother  sitting  at  the  machine. 

"  Here  we  are,"  said  Pe.  "  We've  made  peace,  and 
the  wedding  is  to  be  in  four  weeks,  mother !  " 

Anna  took  her  mother's  hand,  and,  holding  it  fast  in  her 
own,  said  in  a  gentle  and  affectionate  voice  :  "  We  would 
stay  with  you,  mother,  but  there  is  someone  outside  who 
wants  you  :  whom  you  haven't  seen  these  two  years.  So 
we  are  going  across  to  Uncle  Lau's. "  They  went  out  by 
the  kitchen  door. 

"  Someone  for  me?  "  said  Hella  Boje;  "  someone  who 
has  come  with  you?  "  With  trembling  knees  she  went 
along  the  passage,  and,  finding  no  one  there,  opened  the 
door  and  looked  out  into  the  darkness.  She  was  about 
middle  height,  bent  already  by  anxiety  about  her  children, 
and  by  sitting  at  the  machine.  On  the  damp,  windy  street 
lay  the  last  leaves  from  the  chestnuts.  "  Pete  !  "  she  said. 
He  came  to  her  across  the  street,  put  his  arm  round 
her,  and  went  in  with  her,  stroking  her  hair.  She  wept 
with  joy.  "Oh,  my  boy!  To  think  of  having  you 
again  !  " 

"  Yes,  mother — and  just  think.  .  ."  He  told  her  of  his 
good  fortune,  saying  nothing  about  his  leap  into  the  sea. 
She  rejoiced  indeed.  "  Oh,"  she  cried,  "  now  you  will  be 
often  on  shore. ' ' 

"  I  shall  come  to  Hilligenlei  twice  a  year  at  least.  You 
shall  have  some  satisfaction  from  your  eldest !  " 

*'  Oh,  Pete,  I've  always  had  that — always." 

"  Now,  then,  have  you  sat  at  the  machine  all  day?  " 

"  Oh,  no;  not  all  the  time." 

"I'm  not  so  sure,"  said  he;  "  you're  worn  out  and  look 
anything  but  well.  Anna  is  as  good  as  married.  I'll  look 
after  Hett.  Heinke  is  a  clever  girl,  and  will  earn  her  living 


200  HOLYLAND 

yet.  .  .  .  I'll  tell  you  what  .  .  .  there's  room  in 
the  loft,  isn't  there?  "  And,  before  she  knew  what  he  was 
about,  he  had  seized  on  the  heavy  machine,  lifted  it  up, 
and  carried  it  out  of  the  room  and  up  the  stairs,  calling  out 
"Your  day  is  over — you've  done  your  work!  " 

In  her  joy  Hella  Boje  did  not  know  whether  to  laugh  or 
cry ;  hot  tears  sprang  to  her  eyes. 

When  he  came  down  again,  and  was  going  into  the 
kitchen  with  his  mother,  a  silvery  voice  rang  out  as  the 
door  blew  open  :  ' '  Oh,  mother,  Kai  Jans  has  been  home 
from  Berlin  since  the  day  before  yesterday,  and  he  went 
to  Cuxhaven  with  Anna  and  Pe  Ontjes  !  And  Anna  is  en- 
gaged to  Pe — and  I  knew  nothing  of  it  all.  And  now 
there's  something  else.  .  .  .  but  nobody  tells  me  any- 
thing." 

As  he  came  out  of  the  dark  passage  to  meet  her  she 
stood  in  the  bright  light  of  the  door.  He  saw  how  she 
drew  up  her  tall  figure  as  she  looked  at  the  strange  man 
with  the  shy  awkwardness  of  sixteen  in  her  grey  eyes. 

"  Heinke  !  "  he  said. 

Then  she  recognised  and  threw  her  arms  round  his  neck 
with  a  cry  of  joy,  pressing  close  up  to  him.  He  stroked 
her  hair  and  drew  her  into  the  room,  shutting  the  door 
behind  him.  She  looked  at  him  shyly,  passing  her  hand 
softly  over  his  sleeve.  "  How  different  you  look  !  and  a 
beard  !  Oh,  where 's  the  machine?  " 

He  told  her  of  his  good  fortune,  and  how  their  mother 
was  not  to  work  at  the  machine  any  more. 

"  Really  !  And  the  great  Pe  Ontjes  is  to  be  my  brother- 
in-law  !  Think!  brother-in-law!"  She  laughed.  "It's 
a  good  thing  I  have  always  called  him  by  his  Christian 
name,  or  it  would  be  awkward  to  begin  now.  Really  ! 
And  when  are  they  to  be  married  ?  ' ' 

"  In  four  weeks." 

"  In  four  weeks  ?"  She  lost  herself  in  thought.  "Do 
you  know,"  she  said,  "  Kai  will  have  his  examination 
soon  now.  He  is  going  to  be  a  clergyman;  and  that's 
right,  I  think." 

"  You  are  friends,  aren't  you?  " 

"  Yes,"  she  said,  with  a  gentle  seriousness  in  her  tone. 
' '  He  has  always  been  very  good  to  me.  I  have  had  heaps 
of  letters  and  postcards  from  him.  We  find  an  extra- 
ordinary pleasure  in  talking  to  one  another." 


HOLYLAND  201 

"  But  what  do  you  think  of  his  search  for  the  sanctuary, 
or  what  is  it  he  calls  it? — the  Holyland?  " 

She  drew  her  eyebrows  together,  and  looked  pensively 
at  the  ground.  "  Yes,  what  can  one  say?  I'll  tell  you 
what  I  think.  I  think  he  is  a  good  and  clever  man,  and 
that's  enough." 

"  Well,  go  and  say  '  How  do  you  do?  '  to  him,  then." 
She  went. 

He  remained  alone  in  the  room  for  some  time.  He 
looked  around  and  found  everything  in  its  accustomed 
place;  then  a  sensation  of  weariness  after  all  that  he  had 
gone  through  came  over  him.  He  began  to  think  of  the 
ship  he  was  to  inspect,  seeing  in  his  mind's  eye  the  partly 
built  craft  and  himself  going  all  over  it,  asking  questions, 
examining  the  hold.  And  as  he  stood  there,  watching  the 
work,  he  heard  a  sound  of  clicking  and  pushing  overhead. 
"  What  can  that  be?  "  he  thought;  "  what  sort  of  new 
engine  have  they  got  on  deck?  " 

He  got  up,  remembered  where  he  was,  opened  the  door, 
and  shook  his  head  in  great  perplexity.  .  .  then  with  three 
steps  he  was  upstairs.  His  mother  stood  working  the 
machine  in  the  dim  light  of  the  little  kitchen  lamp,  lost  in 
thought.  She  looked  up  at  him  in  confusion.  '  You 
took  it  away  so  suddenly,  before  I  had  time  to  understand. 
I  don't  believe  I  can  think  now  unless  I  am  sitting  at  the 
machine.  .  .  I  have  always  thought  of  your  father  and 
you  all  as  I  worked  at  it."  She  rubbed  its  shining  top 
and  burst  into  loud  sobs. 

"  Cheer  up,  mummy,"  he  said ;  "  no,  don't  cry.  .  .  you 
shall  sit  at  it  two  or  three  hours  a  day — but  not  more. 
Come,  now."  But  she  stayed  where  she  was. 

"  Pete.  .  .  I  have  worried  so  fearfully  over  you  all. 
Every  day  I  have  been  afraid  that  you  might  die  like  your 
father.  .  .  and  Anna,  Anna  has  gone  through  a  great 
deal,  Pete ;  and  Heinke  is  so  quiet  and  reserved  ;  and,  Pete, 
I  have  never  talked  to  the  girls  about  it,  but  you  must 
know,  in  case  I  were  suddenly  to  die.  I  love  Hett  so.  .  . 
he  was  the  last  child  I  had  by  him.  .  .  but  now,  I  am  so 
terribly  afraid.  .  .  he  is  not  true  like  you  others  are." 

"I  know,"  he  said,  and  his  eyes  darkened.  "Anna 
wrote  to  me  about  it.  But  now  that  I  know  it  will  be  all 
right.  I  shall  be  in  Hamburg  and  can  keep  an  eye  upon 
him.  The  boy  will  turn  out  all  right,  trust  me  for  that ! 


202  HOLYLAND 

He  comes  of  a  good  enough  stock.  Come,  be  of  good 
heart !  Think  of  what  I  have  done  already.  I  shall  do 
more  yet.  I  am  going  to  make  tremendous  efforts.  For- 
ward, forward  !  ever  ahead  !  " 

"  Ah,  Pete,"  said  she  thoughtfully,  "do  you  think  you 
will  find  peace  so?  " 

"  Peace  !  "  said  he ;  "  what  is  peace?  Don't  talk  to  me 
like  Kai  Jans  !  Come,  now  !  " 


CHAPTER   XVII 

MRS.  BOJE  was  indeed  blessed  in  her  children.  Things 
became  much  brighter  in  the  little  gabled  house  under 
the  chestnuts. 

Anna  Boje  was  a  happy  wife,  with  no  thoughts  save 
for  her  husband  and  the  daily  round  of  household  duties. 
In  the  second  year  she  began  to  grieve  that  no  child  came 
to  her. 

She  had  much  to  do  in  her  home,  but  two  or  three 
times  a  week  she  would  go  down  to  the  chestnut  avenue 
towards  evening  and  sit  in  her  old  place,  rather  more 
stately  than  of  old,  and  with  a  nfew  and  beautiful  peace 
in  her  clear,  open  face.  Her  mother  sat  opposite  her, 
sewing,  while  Heinke  was  busy  in  the  kitchen. 

Now  and  then  the  mother  would  shyly  throw  out  a 
brief  question  over  this  and  that,  and  give  a  brief  word 
of  womanly  counsel.  The  young  wife  made  no  reply, 
or  turned  aside  her  fair  head  as  if  to  say,  "  I  don't  want 
to  talk  of  that. ' '  .  And  yet  the  mother  knew  that  not  a 
word  was  lost  upon  her  daughter.  When  she  went  home, 
and  stretching  up  her  erect  figure  felt  the  blood  course 
swiftly  through  her  veins  as  she  stepped  out  like  a  lioness, 
as  Pe  Ontjes  said,  she  thought,  "  Who  is  to  have  children 
if  not  I?" 

One  evening,  when  they  had  been  married  nearly  two 
years,  her  mother  began  again,  without  looking  up  from 
her  knitting,  "  Tell  me,  my  child — I  think  so  much  about 
it !  I  will  never  say  another  word  on  the  subject — but, 
children  are  part  of  a  true  marriage.  Tell  me,  you  love 
one  another  ?  ' ' 

"Mother!  "  said  Anna.  "What  do  you  think?  Of 
course  we  love  one  another  !  ' ' 

"That  is  right,"  said  Hella  Boje;  "but  you  know — it 
is  possible  to  love  one  another  too  much. ' '  She  bent  over 
the  work  in  her  lap.  ' '  Your  father  was  a  man  of  quick, 


204  HOLYLAND 

passionate  nature,  like  Pete;  but  when  he  took  me  in  his 
arms  he  was  as  calm  as  a  king." 

Anna  said  nothing,  and  pretended  not  to  hear.  But 
in  the  evening,  however,  she  was  alone  with  her  husband, 
and  as  she  lifted  up  her  arms  and  dropped  them  again 
in  undoing  and  spreading  out  her  long,  smooth  hair,  he 
came  up  to  her  and  began  to  play  with  her  hair.  Then, 
looking  earnestly  at  him,  she  said,  "  Wieben  Peters ! 
You  think  that  it  is  all  right  if  your  beard  is  yellow  and 
your  heart  is  warm,  but  if  you  love  your  wife  you  must 
be  peaceful  and  glorious,  like  a  king  !  " 

"  Indeed  !  "  said  he.     "  And  what  must  you  be  like?  " 

She  cast  a  distrustful  glance  sideways  in  the  mirror,  as 
she  often  did,  and  said,  laughing  and  shaking  her  long 
fair  mane,  "  Oh,  I  am  peaceful !  " 

So  Anna's  life  went  on.  She  thought  only  of  her 
beloved,  and  her  desire  for  a  child  of  his,  and  her  house- 
hold duties,  and  had  no  thoughts  beyond — not  even  for 
her  own  people.  Her  sister  was  almost  a  stranger  to  her. 

Heinke  was  eighteen,  and  looked  after  the  house.  Since 
the  house  was  emptier,  and  they  wanted  more  work,  they 
took  in  two  grammar-school  boys — from  Friestadt,  of 
course.  They  slept  in  the  room  with  the  gable,  and  fared 
as  if  at  home.  Mrs.  Boje's  motherly  eyes  spied  out  miss- 
ing buttons  and  worn-out  trousers.  Heinke  encouraged 
their  studies  with  alternate  scoldings  and  sisterly  assist- 
ance. And  she  saw  that  they  were  well  fed,  for  her  appe- 
tite was  excellent :  she  was  hungry  and  strong,  and  pos- 
sessed plenty  of  self-esteem,  although  she  was  not  so  bad 
in  this  respect  as  the  other  Bojes. 

At  this  time  she  had  one  secret  joy.  Kai  Jans,  having 
successfully  passed  his  examination,  had  come  to  assist 
the  parson  at  Hindorf,  only  two  hours  away  from  Hilli- 
genlei.  Kai  Jans  ! 

For  fourteen  days  he  helped  the  sick  parson  in  his 
lofty  duties  :  he  baptised  and  betrothed,  and  visited  the 
sick,  and  spoke  over  graves,  and  helped  people  in  all 
the  relations  of  life.  Then  on  Sunday  afternoon  he  came 
to  Hilligenlei. 

First  he  went  to  his  parents.  They  still  lived  in  the 
long  house,  and  Thomas,  vigorous  in  spite  of  his  sixty 
years,  still  went  daily  to  his  digging.  Mala,  with  her 
smooth  hair  and  clean  apron,  still  waited  in  Ringerang's 


HOLYLAND  205 

kitchen  when  the  farmers  had  a  dinner  and  the  young 
folk  a  dance.  On  Sundays  he  would  sit  comfortably  by 
the  window,  his  eyeglasses  perched  on  his  Roman  nose, 
reading  the  Bible  or  the  Labour  Leader,  while  she  sat 
opposite  with  her  gentle,  intelligent  face,  reading  peace- 
fully the  stories  in  the  Itzehoe  paper  about  Lady  Alice 
and  Lord  Pancook. 

The  Labour  Party,  of  which  he  was  now  the  doyen, 
met  in  the  hall,  and  from  time  to  time  speakers  came  from 
Hamburg  to  address  them.  He  attended  regularly,  but 
did  not  believe  all  that  he  heard.  To  his  slow-moving  mind 
their  judgments  seemed  too  hasty.  He  accepted  their 
criticisms  of  the  clergy  and  their  condemnation  of  the 
existing  condition  of  the  Church,  for  as  far  as  he  could  see 
the  Church  had  always  been  on  the  side  of  the  well-to-do. 
But  when  they  wanted  to  abolish  not  only  the  Church,  but 
religion,  he  could  not  follow  them.  His  own  experience 
and  his  knowledge  of  the  lives  of  others  taught  him  the 
secret  sway  of  holy  and  eternal  powers  over  and  about  us. 

When  Kai  Jans  came,  his  little  mother  asked  after  his 
socks  and  shirts,  and  how  he  fed  at  the  rectory.  His 
father  laid  his  glasses  on  the  table,  and,  drumming 
softly  with  his  fingers  on  the  window  ledge,  said,  "  I  don't 
like  my  glasses  on  when  I  look  at  people,"  and  asked 
about  affairs  in  Hindorf.  He  knew"  most  of  the 
people  whom  his  son  mentioned,  and  would  recount  what 
he  knew  of  the  lives  of  those  whom  his  son  buried,  and  of 
the  ancestors  of  those  whom  he  baptised,  not  recounting 
mere  incidents,  but  searching  for  the  causes  of  events. 
Father  and  son  resembled  each  other  so  much  that  these 
experiences  sank  in  and  gave  to  the  son  the  outlook  upon 
life  and  the  world  of  a  man  of  sixty  years.  He  would  sit 
there  for  hours  listening  to  his  father,  his  eyes  fixed 
thoughtfully  on  the  ground,  on  the  intelligent  face  of  his 
father,  or  gazing  out  to  sea  across  the  harbour  stream.  He 
said  little  and  seldom  passed  any  judgment :  he  used  his 
eyes  and  his  ears. 

At  a  time  when  most  young  men  thump  the  table 
and  cry  "We're  ready;  examinations  and  ponder- 
ing over  things  are  over  for  us  !  "  Kai  Jans  was  begin- 
ning to  feel  that  it  was  all  a  riddle,  himself,  the  world,  life 
in  general.  At  a  time  when  all  his  friends  were  started 
in  life,  when  Pe  Ontjes  Lau — well,  the  great  Pe  Ontjes  Lau 


2o6  HOLYLAND 

i 

was  really  started  in  life  at  ten  years  of  age,  when  he  began 
to  wear  the  Jutlander's  woollen  cap  ! — when  Anna  Boje 
at  twenty-six  was  a  self-reliant,  full-developed  charac- 
ter, when  Pete  Boje  knew  exactly  what  he  wanted, 
when  Tjark  Dusenschon  had  been  going  for  years  through 
the  streets  of  Hamburg  with  perfect  self-assurance,  Kai 
Jans,  like  the  oak,  which  is  the  last  of  all  the  trees  of  the 
forest  to  don  its  green,  because  its  wood  is  the 
hardest  of  all,  Kai  Jans  was  just  beginning  to  put  from 
him  the  wild,  undisciplined  enthusiasms,  the  exuberant 
caprices  of  a  youthful  intellect,  in  order,  with  the  calm  re- 
flection that  brings  furrows  to  the  brow,  to  listen  for  the 
murmurs  that  stir  up  among  the  tree  tops  and  down  in  the 
brushwood  of  the  mighty  forest.  And  at  this  time  when 
he  was  growing  to  manhood,  his  best  helper  was  the  old 
navvy,  Thomas  Jans.  He  gave  him  the  best  inheritance 
that  any  man  may  inherit  in  the  experience  of  a  long  and 
earnest  life.  But  while  his  father  stirred  the  deepest 
mysteries  of  the  soul  in  hasty,  tentative  phrases,  Kai  Jans, 
with  the  shy  embarrassment  of  youth  not  yet  confident  of 
itself,  was  silent,  unable  to  argue  with  the  elder  man. 

On  leaving  the  long  house,  he  went,  still  lost  in  thought, 
straight  to  the  little  gabled  house  under  the  chestnuts.  And 
here  he  became  merry ;  he  would  sit  cosily  in  the  chair  by 
the  window  and  chat  with  Mrs.  Boje  and  Heinke,  looking 
out  into  the  street,  and  making  jokes  at  the  expense  of  the 
passers-by,  and  this  and  that  in  Hilligenlei,  telling  them 
about  Hindorf  and  the  good  rector,  and  hearing  news  of 
his  old  friends. 

"  Pete  was  here  last  week,"  said  Heinke.  "  He  came 
in  the  morning  and  sat  down  in  that  chair  that  you  are 
sitting  in  now,  saying  it  was  so  gloriously  quiet  and  cosy 
here  that  he  would  stay  for  three  days.  He  was  going  to 
see  you  in  Hindorf,  or  take  me  with  you.  But  when  he 
saw  that  things  were  all  right  here,  and  after  he  had  talked 
.  with  Pe  Ontjes  about  the  price  of  corn,  he  said  about  three 
o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  '  I  think,  mother,  I  had  better 
get  back  to-morrow  morning  early ;  we  have  got  our 
hands  full  with  a  new  schooner.'  So  I  went  with  him  to 
the  station  about  five  o'clock.  Do  you  know,  the  one  who 
is  getting  on  the  fastest  of  all  of  you  is  Tjark  Dusenschon  ! 
Pete  says  he  has  a  fortune  already,  and  none  of  you  have 
anything."  She  laughed  in  merry  mockery. 


HOLYLAND  207 

Kai  Jans  and  Mrs.  Boje  began  to  speak  of  his  childish 
days.  She  tried  to  join  in. 

"  You  be  quiet,"  he  said,  "you  were  a  baby  at  that 
time,  no  bigger  than  the  leg  of  this  chair !  " 

"  That's  a  lie." 

"  A  lie,  indeed?  I  saw  you  when  you  were  only  twelve 
days  old!" 

"  That's  not  true,  it's  only  your  boasting.  You  always 
talk  as  if  I  were  your  grandchild ;  there  are  only  eight 
years  between  us,  after  all." 

He  laughed,  enjoying  her  scorn.  She  tried  to  be  really 
angry,  but  casting  a  rapid  glance  at  his  face  and  seeing 
how  full  of  merry  roguishness  it  was,  she  laughed  softly 
and  said  gaily,  "  You  cannot  make  me  angry  !" 

"  Nor  you  me,"  said  he,  looking  at  her  with  genuine 
affection  in  his  serious  eyes.  She  nodded  to  him  and 
bent  again  over  her  work  to  hide  the  confusion  in  her 
eyes. 

When  he  got  up  to  go  he  said,  "  Will  you  come  with 
me  to  Anna's?" 

It  being  Sunday  she  had  time  to  come  :  rejoicing  every 
time  they  met  anyone  on  the  road  who  could  see  her  with 
him,  thinking  that  everyone  must  rate  him  as  high  as  she 
had  done  from  her  childhood's  days. 

After  sitting  with  Anna  and  Pe  Ontjes  for  an  hour  or 
so,  she  went  with  him  out  of  the  town  on  to  the  heights. 
Here  the  calm,  gentle  peace  of  evening  on  the  way  to  the 
quiet  of  his  village,  and  the  presence  of  this  pure  young 
creature  by  his  side,  called  forth  from  his  soul  all  his  secret 
thoughts  and  aspirations. 

"  There  is  no  one  else  to  whom  I  can  talk  about  these 
things  :  you  are  too  young  perhaps,  but  even  if  you  don't 
understand  everything  you  listen  so  sweetly,  and  you  are 
so  dear  and  so  full  of  worldly  wisdom — far  more  so  than 
I  shall  ever  become.  .  .  .  Heinke,  I  don't  know,  I  really 
don't  know  where  I  am.  ...  I  am  afraid  you  have  always 
been  right  in  saying  that  I  am  unfit  to  be  a  clergyman — 
I  think  I  shall  have  to  give  it  up  altogether.  .  .  ' 

She  was  silent  for  a  space.  Then,  "  You  don't  believe 
what  you  have  to  say  in  your  sermons?" 

"  Ah,  child,  it  is  not  so  simple  as  that.  I  will  tell  you. 
I  certainly  do  not  believe  the  faith  one  is  taught  first  in 
school  and  then  in  church,  that  as  far  as  I  can  remember 


208  H  O  L  Y  L  A  N  D 

I  have  never  believed ;  no  conscientious  man  with  any  intel- 
ligence can  believe  it. ' ' 

' '  What  do  you  preach  then  ? ' ' 

"  Ah,  child,  at  first  that  was  a  great  trouble  to  me.  For 
a  time  I  thought  that  because  I  could  no  longer  accept  the 
faith  of  the  Church  I  must  give  up  Christianity  altogether. 
I  was  in  despair ;  the  whole  thing  seemed  nonsense  to  me. 
Then  about  a  year  ago  I  had  to  bury  quite  a  little  child. 
A  little  time  before,  an  old  woman  in  the  village  had  told 
me  she  had  lost  first  her  parents,  then  her  husband,  and 
then  her  elder  children,  but  the  hardest  of  all  had  been  the 
loss  of  a  child  that  was  still  at  her  breast.  Thinking  of 
this,  I  spoke  to  the  young  mother  by  the  side  of  the  open 
grave,  without  any  text,  without  saying  a  word  of  the  hard 
old  faith,  original  sin,  redemption  by  blood  and  the  like, 
only  seeking  for  some  words  of  consolation  .  .  .  and  I 
found  it,  at  last  in  this.  .  .  '  Deliver  us  from  evil,  For 
Thine  is  the  Kingdom.'  .  .  .  And  so  I  preach  now  as 
much  as  I  can  in  the  Saviour's  words,  of  the  childlike, 
tender,  human  elements  in  Christianity,  of  trust  in  God, 
courage,  love  of  our  neighbours  and  eternal  hope.  That's 
what  I  preach  about.  But  I  have  no  assurance,  no  sense 
of  unity.  I  am  myself  in  a  state  of  miserable  uncertainty ; 
the  want  of  clearness  in  my  thought  is  a  terrible  pain." 

"  If  you  preach  what  is  pure  and  lofty,  that  is  enough," 
said  she.  "  You  should  be  content." 

"  But  I  am  not,"  he  complained.  "  If  I  were  only  like 
other  men  !  They  have  their  profession  and  their  hobby 
and  play  with  their  wife  and  children,  while  I  torture 
myself  about  questions  which  no  human  intellect  can 
decide." 

She  looked  at  him  with  her  clear,  honest  eyes.  ;<  You 
are  still  young,"  she  said,  "you  will  find  some  certain 
good  at  last." 

He  was  utterly  despondent.  "  I  find  !  I  am  not  even 
fit  to  be  a  village  priest.  I  stand  before  the  world  like  the 
ox  before  the  stall,  wondering,  wondering,  able  neither 
to  go  in  nor  to  come  out.  However  I  prick  up  my  ears 
I  cannot  make  music  out  of  life  or  the  world." 

"  Shall  I  tell  you  what  you  must  do?  "  she  said.  "  You 
must  go  out  into  the  world  again.  You  must  learn  more 
and  see  more ;  that  is  what  you  want,  I  think.  If  it  does 
nothing  else,  it  will  pass  the  years  of  restlessness  away." 


HOLYLAND  209 

"  Well,"  said  he,  "I  have  a  friend  in  Berlin,  a  poli- 
ticign,  the  son  of  well-to-do  people.  You  and  he  are  the 
only  people  to  whom  I  talk  about  my  troubles.  Once  a  fort- 
night he  writes  to  me,  '  Come  back  here  for  a  few  years. 
Three  years  ago  we  were  both  too  young  and  stupid, 
especially  you.  Come  back  now  and  learn.'  Sometimes 
I  think  it  would  be  the  best  thing  to  do.  Then  I  am  afraid 
I  am  too  simple-minded  for  scientific  studies.  .  .  .  Ah, 
child,"  he  said,  "  my  gloomy  affairs  will  make  you  sad — 
let  us  talk  of  other  things. " 

She  shook  her  fair  head  and  said  in  her  soft,  melo- 
dious voice,  "  Tell  me  more,  more  !  You  don't  know  how 
I  love  listening  to  you.  If  I  could  only  help  you  !" 

On  the  Volkersdorf  summit  she  said  good-bye  and  turned 
homewards.  The  way  seemed  to  be  through  a  beautiful 
shining  haze  in  the  happiness  of  the  thought  that  the 
dearest,  cleverest  man  in  all  the  world  had  walked  by  her 
side,  laid  in  her  hands  the  deepest  secrets  of  his  soul.  Her 
own  was  still  shrouded  in  the  dreams  of  youth. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

ANOTHER  year  passed. 

On  a  beautiful  Sunday  in  October,  a  fresh  wind  blowing 
from  the  west,  Anna  went  one  afternoon  to  see  her  mother, 
as  her  custom  was.  Her  mother  heard  her  step  as  she 
passed  under  the  window,  and  recognising  her  daughter, 
saw  with  a  mother's  sharp  eyes  that  there  was  a  difference 
in  her  carriage.  When  her  lovely  visitor  entered,  however, 
she  made  no  remark  but  talked  of  other  matters,  how  Pete 
had  written,  Hett  had  sent  home  his  washing,  Heinke  was 
with  a  friend. 

Anna  listened,  looking  now  at  her  mother,  now  out  of 
the  window,  with  something  roguish  in  her  eyes. 

Her  mother  thought,  "  Two  can  play  at  this  game,"  and 
she  went  to  the  chest  of  drawers  that  stood  to  the  right  of 
the  door,  and  kneeling  down  took  out  a  little  bundle  of  linen, 
then,  seating  herself  again,  she  began  to  stitch  a  button 
on  to  one  of  the  tiny  shirts.  Anna  sat  opposite  her,  her 
sparkling  eyes  wandering  from  her  mother's  work  out  to 
the  street,  covered  with  great  red  and  yellow  leaves,  with 
great  shining  brown  fruits  lying  among  them  bursting  out 
of  their  skins ;  she  sat  quietly  without  saying  a  word. 

Then  Heinke  came  in  from  her  walk,  nodded  her  dainty 
fair  head,  and  saying  abstractedly,  "  You  there,  Anna," 
went  up  to  her  mother's  sewing  basket  to  look  for  some- 
thing. Seeing  her  mother's  work  she  went  out  again. 
Shortly  afterwards,  when  Anna  went  out  into  the  passage 
on  her  way  home,  Heinke,  coming  out  of  her  room  with  a 
book  in  her  hand,  met  her.  Anna  took  the  book  from  her, 
and  seeing  that  it  was  a  volume  of  Goethe,  said  in  a  de- 
pressed tone,  "That  is  over  my  head,  and  Pe  Ontjes  does 
not  care  for  such  things  either.  .  .  .  It  is  nice  that  you 
have  Kai  Jans  for  a  friend;  he  can  help  you."  She  laid 
the  book  on  the  table. 

Heinke  left  it  there,  saying,  "  I  will  walk  home  with 
you."  When  they  were  outside,  with  a  movement  of  shy 


HOLYLAND  211 

tenderness,  she  put  her  arm  through  her  sister's,  a  thing 
she  never  did,  and  Anna  took  the  hand  that  rested  on  her 
arm.  The  two  tall,  beautiful  women  walked  together  in 
silence,  striking  their  feet  as  they  walked  against  the  ripe 
chestnuts  on  the  ground.  As  if  to  show  her  suppleness, 
Anna,  without  letting  go  her  sister's  arm,  bent  down  to 
pick  up  a  burst  chestnut,  out  of  which  the  shining  brown 
fruit  peeped  :  lost  in  thought  she  let  Heinke's  hand  go.  A 
few  great  red  leaves  fell  on  either  side  of  them  ;  the  autumn 
sky  was  clear  and  high  above  them.  Anna's  thoughts 
oppressed  her,  and  she  began  to  weep  softly. 

"  Heinke,"  she  said,  "  I  have  never  showed  you  that 
I  love  you,  but  I  do  love  you  very  dearly.  .  .  .  You  must 
take  your  soul  in  both  hands  .  .  .  you  don't  know  how 
fearful  it  is  to  let  a  great  love  root  itself  in  one's  soul, 
and  then  have  to  rend  it  out  with  one's  own  hands  when 
it  has  grown  there.  .  .  .  Take  care  you  do  not  grow  to 
care  so  for  Kai  Jans." 

Heinke  let  her  fair  head  droop  and  said  softly,  "  I  know 
he  is  fond  of  me  .  .  .  and  I  am  glad  of  it — but  I  have  no 
further  thoughts.  I  am  only  nineteen,  Antje. " 

"  I  ought  not  to  have  said  anything,"  said  Anna. 

"  Oh,  yes,"  said  Heinke,  "  I  am  glad  of  it;  then  I  shall 
be  on  my  guard. ' ' 

"  You  are  like  me  in  appearance,"  said  Anna,  "  except 
that  your  eyes  are  softer  and  your  hair  a  shade  darker ;  I 
expect  your  nature  will  be  like  mine,  and  on  such  natures 
may  fall  an  agony,  upon  which  may  God  have  mercy  !  " 
Her  voice  broke  and  she  wept. 

Heinke  understood  that  her  sister  spoke  of  an  agony 
which  she  herself  had  felt;  she  pressed  her  hand  and  said, 
"  Don't  be  afraid  on  my  account.  I  am  happy  in  my  old 
friendship  with  him  and  will  try  to  keep  an  even 
more  careful  watch  on  my  actions  than  I  have  done. 
Oh,  I  have  so  many  plans  to  carry  out !  "  She  laughed 
gaily.  "  What  do  I  know  of  such  tremendous  things 
as  Love  and  Marriage?  I  am  still  quite  happy  as  I 
am." 

Anna  grew  calm  once  more.  But  from  this  time  there 
was  more  confidence  between  Heinke  and  her  sister;  she 
came  to  see  her  often  and  helped  her,  as  her  time  grew 
near,  in  the  work  of  the  house.  As  the  year  went  on  she 
grew  into  womanhood ;  she  stood  in  her  shy,  trembling 


212  HOLYLAND 

purity  like  a  young  birch  alone  on  the  heath,  stirred  by 
no  human  hand,  only  by  wind  and  rain. 

Kai  Jans  .  .  .  Kai  Jans  did  not  stir  her.  Had  he 
awakened  her,  after  one  short  moment  of  blissful  confusion 
she  would  have  become  his  bride ;  she  would  have  cried  out 
rapturously,  "  For  years  I  have  loved  you  beyond  every- 
thing- in  the  world." 

But  his  thoughts  were  far,  far  away.  Quite  other  things 
occupied  him.  By  painful  and  obscure  conflict  he  won  his 
way  to  manhood,  learning  in  the  quiet  loneliness  of  the 
village  from  deep  and  scholarly  books,  and  from  the 
serious  duties  of  an  office  which  set  him  in  the  heart  of  the 
movement  of  human  existence.  Sensitive  from  childhood 
up  to  all  that  was  natural,  genuine  and  true,  looking  even 
then  with  eyes  like  those  of  the  first  man  in  astonishment 
at  a  world  awry,  now  as  a  man  he  found  himself  face  to  face 
with  reality,  and  found  its  aspect  at  each  new  examina- 
tion more  hideously  unendurable.  The  utter  confusion  in 
each  individual  existence,  the  pettiness  and  falseness  of 
society,  the  miserable  failure  of  the  State,  the  wooden  and 
unmeaning  formulae  of  the  Church,  the  slow,  bloodstained 
progress  of  humanity  rose  before  him  inexplicable  and 
meaningless.  There  was  no  answer  to  his  question  there. 
In  his  need  he  walked  over  the  heath  and  among  the 
woods  around  his  home ;  he  went  to  the  Bible  and  studied 
more  learned  books.  But  there  was  no  answer  there. 

Silent,  with  thought-sick  eyes  in  which  the  need  of  his 
soul  had  hung  out  its  signals  of  distress,  he  came  down  to 
Hilligenlei.  He  sat  opposite  to  his  father  and  listened 
to  his  experiences  without  finding  any  cheer  in  them ;  it 
was  all  a  strange  confusion.  Then  he  went  to  Heinke 
Boje.  He  did  not  ask  of  her  to  understand  everything  ;  he 
came  to  her  as  a  big  boy  comes  to  a  dear,  innocent  friend 
when  the  world  and  the  workings  of  his  conscience  trouble 
him.  And  she  found  the  right,  although  she  had  no 
learning,  by  the  insight  of  a  sincere  and  sensitive  nature. 

"Do  not  fear,"  she  said;  "do  as  your  friend  asks- 
accept  his  help  and  spend  a  year  or  two  in  Berlin — go, 
Kai !  We  can  easily  prove  to  your  parents  that  it  is  wise ; 
they  will  understand,  they  are  intelligent." 

"  Yes,"  he  said,  "  I  think  it  would  be  the  right  thin£ 
for  me  to  go,  else  I  am  afraid  lest  the  Church  hold  me  fast 
in  her  clutches.  I  want  to  see  with  my  own  eyes  the 


HOLYLAND  213 

state  of  my  people  in  these  disturbed  times,  to  learn  for 
myself  what  is  being  and  can  be  done  to  help  them 
through. ' ' 

One  day,  when  she  went  up  to  the  heights  with  him,  he 
saw  that  she  was  depressed.  At  first,  when  he  asked  her 
about  it,  she  denied  it ;  then  she  admitted  that  her  mother 
had  been  scolding  her  again. 

"I  cannot  get  on  with  mother,"  she  said;  "she  is 
always  talking  of  my  evil  character." 

He  shook  his  head  while  her  eyes  filled  with  tears. 

' '  When  I  was  at  church  the  other  day  the  parson 
preached  about  Hell  and  eternal  damnation,  and  I  felt 
in  despair.  I  don't  know  what  to  do  with  myself."  Her 
head  drooped  and  she  wept. 

In  the  midst  of  his  own  trouble  he  was  almost  glad  to 
have  an  opportunity  of  helping  her ;  he  talked  to  her 
earnestly  and  encouragingly.  "  Ah,"  he  said,  "  you  must 
not  simply  accept  it  when  the  Church  or  your  parents  or 
anyone  says,  'This  is  a  sin;  this  is  wickedness,'  or  '  You 
are  a  wicked,  extraordinary,  evil  person.'  I  tell  you 
the  misery  which  leads  many  young  people  to  the  verge 
and  even  to  the  actual  commission  of  suicide  is  very  often 
caused  by  the  way  in  which  the  hard  and  unsympathetic 
judgment  of  parents  and  relations,  of  the  Church,  of 
society,  of  those  in  authority  over  them  make  the  young, 
and  especially  the  very  best  among  them,  distrustful  of 
their  own  nature  and  full  of  despairing  hatred  of  them- 
selves, so  that  their  very  existence  seems  meaningless,  and 
they  themselves  are  embittered  or  compelled  or  actually 
driven  to  throw  away  their  lives.  Hold  your  head  high, 
Heinke  Boje;  dear  child  of  the  sunny  day,  don't  mind  how 
the  owls  hoot  at  you  !  Have  you  not  good  blood  in  your 
veins?  Did  not  your  father  spring  from  the  ancient  race 
of  Todi  and  your  mother  from  the  tall,  long-limbed  Viro- 
mandui?  Oh,  Heinke,  be  proud  of  your  appearance  and 
of  your  nature ;  believe  in  it  and  develop  it !  Believe  that 
there  is  much  in  you  that  is  good  and  noble — that  belief  is 
a  hundred  times  better  than  the  doctrine  of  the  Church 
which  damns  us  with  the  fires  of  hell.  Dear  Heinke,  there 
is  no  original  sin  !  There  is  original  good  and  original 
evil.  There  is  original  evil  in  you.  You  are  rather  too 
sensitive,  rather  too  easy-going,  and  your  nose  is  a  shade 
too  pointed ;  but  there  is  more  of  original  good  in  you — 


»i4  HOLYLAND 

oh,  a  mass  of  it,  from  your  long  fair  hair  to  your  dainty 
ankles,  to  say  nothing  of  your  precious  soul  and  your  dear 
spirit !  So  please  me  by  having  confidence  in  yourself. 
Think  that  the  Saviour  Himself  says  of  you  in  your  youth, 
'  Let  her  pass,  she  is  not  far  from  the  Kingdom  of 
Heaven. '  ' 

A^ray  of  brilliant  happiness  passed  over  Heinke's  tender 
face,  and  God  gave  dreaming  youth  the  right  word  at  the 
right  moment — oh,  Heinke,  you  were  beautiful  indeed  at 
that  moment — as  she  said  with  laughing  eyes,  "  Ah,  if  I 
come  of  a  good  old  stock  and  am  to  be  satisfied  with  my 
character,  let  your  doubts  and  depressions  go !  Trust 
yourself  too,  recreant !" 

He  looked  at  her  in  astonishment.  "  Ah,  thank  you," 
he  said. 

' '  Go  whither  your  will  calls  you ;  believe  it  shall  be 
justified  by  the  end." 

They  parted. 

One  day,  just  after  New  Year,  he  came  from  his  parents' 
house  through  the  rain  and  the  wet  snow  to  Mrs.  Boje 
and  Heinke,  and  told  them  he  was  going  to  Berlin.  He 
said  farewell. 

And  when  Kai  Jans  left  his  room  in  the  rectory  at 
Hmdorf,  Heinke  Boje  went  there.  He  had  asked  them 
to  allow  this.  Shyly  as  a  swallow  visiting  a  strange 
place  for  the  first  time,  she  entered  the  long  house 
with  the  thatched  roof.  The  first  thing  she  did  was 
to  break  the  mirror  that  hung  to  the  left  of  the  door, 
when  she  tried  to  clean  it;  the  next  was  to  spatter  the 
clergyman's  sermon  with  ink. 

She  began  to  feel  at  home  with  them  when  she  found 
that  they  could  respect  other  people's  nature  and  character, 
and  even  found  pleasure  in  their  differences  ;  and  gradually 
as  she  became  more  confident  she  allowed  her  true  self  to 
appear,  and,  as  Kai  Jans  had  foretold,  she  began  to  find 
happiness  in  being  with  them,  and  to  find  joy  and  peace  in 
herself,  and  to  venture  to  put  in  a  shrewd  word  or  a  jest 
now  and  then.  She  astonished  herself,  and  used  to  say  to 
herself,  "Now,  Heinke  Boje,  what  a  good,  clever  child 
you  are.  Take  care,  you're  driving  your  own  team  now, 
a  young  one — so  take  care  !  ' ' 

In  the  little  room  facing  south-east,  from  which  one  can 
see  far  and  wide  over  the  fens,  she  read  the  letters  that 


HOLYLAND  215 

Kai  Jans  wrote  to  her,  and  answered  them ;  and  she  read 
the  beautiful  great  books  that  had  once  been  her  father's 
joy,  and  understood  them.  And  the  clergyman  helped 
her. 

Anna  Boje  bore  her  first  child  about  midnight  in  the 
beginning  of  May  in  the  south-west  room  looking  out  on 
the  Dyke,  in  the  house  which  Pe  Ontjes  Lau  had 
bought  from  Reimers,  after  she  had  spent  the  day  in  see- 
ing after  all  the  cases  of  her  household.  Only  her  mother 
stood  by  her  bed  and  helped  with  peaceful  care.  She 
would  have  nothing  to  do  with  Rieke  Thomson. 

As  her  eyes  wandered  round  the  room  in  the  time  of 
stress  they  rested  on  the  ship  which  hung  from  the  roof 
over  the  chest  of  drawers,  and  she  said  to  her  mother,  "  If 
all  goes  well,  Pe  Ontjes  must  send  the  news  to  Torril 
Torrilsen,  that  he  may  rejoice  with  us." 

Ten  days  later,  when  for  the  first  time  she  had  the  un- 
speakable joy  of  tending  her  child  herself,  Heinke  came 
over  from  Hindorf  on  foot  to  see  the  baby.  She  had  just 
sat  down  after  looking  at  it  with  shy,  silent  wonder,  when 
Kassen  Wedderkop  came  in.  He  considerately  lowered 
his  voice  at  first,  but  soon  forgot  and  shouted,  suddenly 
lapsing  again  into  a  whisper,  like  a  boy  falling  on  to  a  pile 
of  soft  straw. 

Pe  Ontjes,  in  spite  of  his  young  fatherhood,  was  in  a 
state  of  great  irritation  because  a  smack  laden  with  barley 
for  him  was  stuck  on  the  sandbank.  "  I  wish  I  could 
sling  up  the  mayor  and  the  fat  alderman  on  to  the  smack 
and  let  them  bob  up  and  down  in  the  water." 

"  If  so,  sling  up  some  more,"  said  Wedderkop.  "  The 
mayor  is  certainly  a  wretched  creature,  a  kind  of  ducaJ 
edition  of  a  fool,  so  vain  that  he  can  never  judge  anything 
on  its  merits,  but  always  thinks  what  sort  of  figure  he 
will  cut.  But  the  real  masters  of  Hilligenlei  are  not  the 
mayor  or  aldermen,  but  people  like  Heine  Wulk  and  Birn- 
baum,  the  publican.  They  teach  the  town  and  give  it  its 
opinions.  Yes,  the  real  rulers  of  Helligenlei  arc  Heine 
Wulk,  with  his  ill-conditioned  newspaper,  and  Birnbaum, 
who  not  only  supplies  beer,  but  distils  with  it  into  the 
minds  of  those  who  go  near  him  his  low  and  vulgar  views 
on  God  and  the  world,  and  everything  that  is  good  or 
lofty." 

"  Do  you  ever  go  to  the  club?  "  said  Pe  Ontjes  bitterly. 


216  HOLYLAN.D 

"  I  was  there  the  other  day,"  said  Wedderkop.  "They 
were  talking  about  mice.  Everyone  present  told  his  own 
mouse  story,  his  peculiar  property  and  pride ;  the  others 
leant  forward,  gazing  at  the  story-teller,  not  from  any  in- 
terest in  the  tale,  which  they  all  knew  already,  but  burning 
with  eagerness  to  tell  their  own  story.  Suddenly  before 
the  story-teller  could  bring  his  mouse  into  safety,  another 
leapt  on  to  the  stage,  and  bit  off  its  tail ;  and  so  it  went 
round.  Then  they  got  on  to  politics. ' ' 

"  What  are  their  views  there?" 

"  Do  you  know  they  look  at  things  from  the  point  of 
view  of  1875  !  Everything  is  dismisse'd  as  '  Bismarck's 
three  great  mistakes.'  And  then  there's  a  phrase,  a  kind 
of  joke  they  are  always  quoting.  They  say,  '  Our  future 
lies  on  the  water?  No,  mark,  it  lies  in  the  water  now  !  ' 
This  joke,  unlike  the  mouse  stories,  each  of  which  is  the 
property  of  a  single  member,  is  common  club  property. 
When  a  new  member  or  a  stranger  comes  to  the  club, 
someone  is  sure  to  tell  him  this  bon  mot,  looking  at  all 
the  other  members,  his  empty,  arrogant  eyes  meeting 
theirs,  as  empty  and  as  arrogant  as  his  own.  After  that 
they  told  all  sort  of  anecdotes,  nearly  all  of  them  of  a  risqu6 
description.  I  tell  you,  Pe  Ontjes,  these  anecdotes  are  a 
pest  that  corrupts  far  and  wide ;  they  rob  work  of  its  serious 
meaning,  and  drive  all  sense  of  reverence  out  of  life.  There 
they  sit  in  the  club,  the  old  fathers  of  families,  side  by 
side  with  the  young  unmarried  men,  laughing  at  vulgar 
jokes  and  ruining  not  only  their  own  character,  but  that 
of  all  who  listen  to  them." 

"But  the  artisans,"  said  Heinke  intelligently;  "they 
are  sound." 

"Oh!  the  artisans!  "  said  Kassen.  "  Excuse  me, 
Anna — those  confounded  Koreans  !  Look  here  !  "  he  said 
in  a  whisper,  "  I  spent  some  time  to-day  in  watching  my 
carpenter  standing  over  his  peas  and  trying  to  fasten 
a  dead  crow  to  a  post  to  frighten  away  the  birds.  He 
spent  the  whole  morning  in  doing  it !  If  you  order  any- 
think  from  him  the  most  you  can  hope  for  is  to  get 
something  which  is  not  what  you  wanted  in  the  course  of 
a  few  months.  The  artisans  are  no  good.  They  haven't 
the  least  desire  for  progress.  If  they  ever  have  a  vague 
idea  of  what  a  wretched,  narrow  existence  they  lead,  all 
they  do  is  to  call  a  meeting  of  their  goose  club  or  benefit 


HOLYLAND  217 

society,  at  which  they  are  all  at  sixes  and  sevens,  and 
do  nothing  but  abuse  one  another,  and  the  president, 
Jenkner,  the  saddler,  has  to  be  escorted  home  in  the 
evening.  They  look  up  to  the  fool  of  a  mayor  or  to 
some  lazy  fellow  from  the  university  as  an  authority, 
without  understanding  that  the  power  of  honest  work  can 
effect  far  more  than  indolent  learning." 

14  Then  there  is  no  good  in  Hilligenlei  !  "  said  Heinke. 

"Well,  Heinke,  there  are  still  the  labourers.  There  is 
the  most  chance  of  finding  good  men  and  true  among 
them.  Whatever  one  may  think  of  details,  they  at  least 
have  a  lofty  ideal  if  they  would  only  keep  to  it,  but  they 
don't.  They  cannot  agree  among  themselves.  There  is 
more  envy  among  workmen  than  in  any  other  class.  Yes  ; 
such  are  the  citizens  of  Hilligenlei — a  pack  of  fools  and 
well-meaning  sluggards  !  Good  Heavens  !  Pe  Ontjes — 
excuse  me,  Anna — when  I  was  a  young  fellow  of  seventeen, 
although  I  was  only  the  son  of  a  small  farmer,  how  I 
strove  to  find  some  way  of  raising  myself  !  With  what 
eagerness  I  looked  for  my  little  talent  and  tried  to  make  the 
most  of  it  when  I  had  found  it !  And  you,  Pe,  and  Pete, 
how  you  struggled  !  I  tell  you  what,  Pe — Daniel  Peters' 
time  of  office  will  be  up  in  six  years,  and  you  must  be 
mayor  of  Hilligenlei." 

"  I  !  "  said  Pe  in  horror.  "  I,  mayor  of  Hilligenlei ! 
I,  the  gooseherd  !  No,  thank  you.  I  am  a  fox  !  " 

"You  a  fox!"  said  Anna  mockingly.  "A  lion, 
rather!  " 

This  tone  in  her  voice  annoyed  him.  "  I  am  too  stupid 
for  a  fox,  I  suppose !  " 

"  Come  !  don't  be  angry  !  "  said  she. 

At  that  moment  Heinke,  coming  out  of  the  room  where 
she  had  been  sitting  by  the  cradle,  observed  to  Anna  that 
she  saw  the  postman  coming.  Anna  went  out  and  re- 
turned with  an  open  letter  in  her  hand,  smiling  as  she 
read  it.  "  It's  from  Pete,"  she  said.  "  He's  sending 
baby  its  christening  robe,  and — no  !  Just  listen  to  this  ! 
Tjark  Dusenschon  is  coming  here — to  Hillieenlei.  He  has 
bought  Dittmar's  house  and  the  big  shed  behind,  and — 
no  !  he  is  going  to  start  a  factory — a  huge  sausage  factory, 
Pete  says  !  " 

"  Hullo!  "  said  Wedderkop. 

"  A  factory  !  "  said  Heinke. 


2i8  HOLYLAND 

"There's  nothing  surprising  in  that,"  said  Pe  Ontjes 
calmly.  "That's  what  one  would  expect  from  Tjark 
Dusenschon.  So  he  is  to  be  a  citizen  of  Hilligenlei,  and 
a  factory -owner  !  ' ' 

He  leaned  back  reflectively  in  his  chair. 

Anna  said,  mockingly,  "  That  will  be  a  fine  swindle,  I 
can  tell  you  !  " 

"  A  swindle?  "  said  Wedderkop.     "  Why  a  swindle?  " 

"  Anna  Boje  is  always  ready  with  her  judgments,"  said 
Pe  Ontjes.  "  Listen  !  they're  at  it  already  !  " 

A  loud  tramping  noise,  like  the  approach  of  an 
elephant,  was  heard  drawing  near.  Anna  had  only  just 
time  to  push  aside  the  best  chair  and  put  a  stronger  one 
in  its  place  and  remove  the  white  table-cloth,  when  Jeff 
Buhmann  stood  in  the  doorway,  in  all  his  sooty  height. 

"  Tjark  Dusenschon  is  there,"  he  said,  breathing  hard 
and  casting  his  black  cap  on  the  ground.  "  I  say  no 
more  !  He  is  a  millionaire  !  Everything  is  fulfilled  !  " 

"What?"  cried  Wedderkop,  staring  in  astonishment 
at  the  apparition. 

"  Everything  that  Rieke  foretold — how  Tjark  would 
make  Hilligenlei  great.  The  customs  will  be  removed, 
the  harbour  will  be  regulated,  the  treasure-ship  dis- 
covered !  Everything !  He  has  been  here  in  his  new 
clothes,  and  has  bought  Dittmar's  place,  and  is  staying 
now  at  Ringerangs,  and  has  been  to  see  his  grandmother. 
I  can  tell  you,  Stiena  is  simply  dancing  !  When  he  had 
come  out  of  her  house  and  was  half-way  up  the  street,  she 
ran  out  and  shouted,  '  Tja-ark  !  Tja-a-rk !  come  back  to 
your  gran 'ma  !  '  I  have  talked  with  him.  Everything 
that  Hule  Beiderwand  foretold  will  be  fulfilled." 

"  Indeed  !  "  said  Pe  Ontjes,  rising.  "  And  you  suppose 
that  if  he  comes,  this  factory  owner,  this  Mr.  Dusenschon, 

that  I ?     I  tell  you,  I  will  turn  him  out.     I  have  had 

enough  trouble  with  the  fellow  in  my  youth."     And  the 
mighty  Pe  Ontjes  Lau  went  to  his  work. 


CHAPTER    XIX 

OF  course,  there  were  people  in  Hilligenlei  who  mock- 
ingly recalled  the  past — who  said  was  not  Tjark  Dusen- 
schon the  illegitimate  grandson  of  that  imbecile  old 
woman  who  lived  in  the  long  house  and  darned  other 
people's  stockings?  Was  it  not  Tjark  who  used  to  run 
out  in  shirt  sleeves  and  slippers  to  beg  a  supper  from 
the  clamfishers?  Was  it  not  Tjark,  that  tall  creature  who 
had  been  clerk  to  Daniel  Peters  at  a  shilling  a  day,  and 
used  to  walk  in  such  a  curiously  stiff  fashion?  So  they 
talked,  but  only  before  they  had  seen  Tjark  Dusenschon. 

His  appearance  banished  any  such  thoughts  instantly. 
There  was  no  use  in  trying  to  recall  them ;  they  were 
gone,  never  to  return ;  such  was  the  impression  Mr. 
Dusenschon  produced.  He  would  go  his  own  way,  this 
calm,  serious  gentleman,  always  clad  in  the  same  well- 
cut  suit  of  dark  grey,  the  broad  pocket-lappets  set  well 
to  the  sides.  His  clean-shaven  face  was  thoughtful  as 
he  walked  with  measured  gait,  his  legs  somewhat  bent. 
The  former  Tjark  had  had  perfectly  straight  legs ;  now 
they  were  somewhat  bent,  and  there  was  something  won- 
derfully respectable,  something  suggestive  of  solidity, 
about  those  bent  legs. 

Who  was  going  to  mistrust  Tjark  Dusenschon?  Daniel 
Peters?  The  first  day,  after  buying  Dittmar's  great 
empty  shed,  he  went  to  Daniel  Peters'  and  met  there  the 
two  fat  old  aldermen.  He  spoke  of  his  hard  youth  in 
beautiful,  appealing  accents,  his  eyes  glistening  with 
coming  tears,  and,  passing  rapidly  over  the  three  years 
which  he  had  worked  in  that  house  under  Daniel  Peters, 
he  recounted  how  he  had  worked  his  way  up  in  Hamburg, 
and  then,  by  speculating  in  landed  property  with  his 
modest  capital,  had  acquired  a  considerable  fortune. 
Looking  back  now,  from  the  summit  of  his  career,  so  to 
speak,  on  its  poor  beginning,  he  had  conceived  the  idea 


220  HOLYLAND 

of,  if  possible,  doing  some  service  to  his  native  town — 
an  idea  in  which  he  was  encouraged  by  the  fact  that  the 
affairs  of  Hilligenlei  were  directed  by  men  who  could 
understand  the  difficulties  of  a  small  town  in  these  hard 
times.  And  so  he  went  on  to  develop  his  idea  of  a  sausage 
manufactory. 

Daniel  Peters  listened  respectfully  until  it  came  to  his 
own  praises.  Then  he  listened  no  more,  but  began  to 
stroke  his  silky  moustache  and  imagine  the  speech  he 
should  make  when  the  town  gave  their  benefactors,  him- 
self, and  Dusenschon  a  torchlight  procession.  The  torches 
shone,  and  he  stood  on  the  steps  of  the  town  hall,  "  Gentle- 
men, it  was  a  great  hour  in  the  history  of  the  good  old  town 
when  Mr.  Dusenschon  appeared  upon  its  scene,  and  again 
a  great  hour  when  he  entered  my  office,  and  I,  gifted 
with  a  mind  able  at  once  to  appreciate  its  greatness.  ..." 
So,  elaborating  his  speech  the  while,  he  nodded  to  what 
Tjark  Dusenschon  said  about  insurance,  first  and  second 
mortgages,  delivery  contracts  for  the  navy,  etc. 

Who  was  going  to  mistrust  Tjark  Dusenschon?  The 
artisans?  He  gave  them  employment.  Their  eyes  were 
dazzled  when  he  drew  out  his  big  black  pocket-book  to 
make  notes.  They  were  mad  about  him.  When  he  said 
to  Binstien,  the  bricklayer,  "  Bring  your  bill  with  you 
to-morrow,"  or  to  Sagebock,  the  carpenter,  "  Shall  I  pay 
yours  also?  "  they  laughed  heartily. 

"There's  no  hurry,  Mr.  Dusenschon.  The  money  is 
safe  enough  with  you."  And  yet  their  clothes  hung  very 
loose  upon  them,  and  their  wives  said,  "  You  should  get 
Dusenschon  to  pay  you.  I  have  to  get  things  on  credit 
from  the  dealer."  But  they  would  not  let  themselves  be 
pauperised. " 

Who  was  going  to  mistrust  Tjark  Dusenschon?  The 
well-to-do?  In  a  single  quarter  he  was  unanimously 
elected  to  the  club — the  first  time  such  a  thing  had  hap- 
pened. Other  people  always  had  some  opponents ;  Tjark 
Dusenschon  had  none.  He  came  to  the  club  every  even- 
ing at  the  same  time,  said  little,  and  drank  less.  When 
his  new  motor  was  put  up  in  the  shed  he  gave  a  little 
champagne  breakfast,  laughing  as  usual  in  his  quiet,  sub- 
dued fashion,  and  himself  drinking  least  of  all.  His  be- 
haviour was  marked  by  such  unvarying  tact  that  he  kept 
on  good  terms  even  with  Judge  Drucker,  with  whom 


HOLYLAND  221 

every  single  member  of  the  club  quarrelled  at  least  once 
a  year  because  he  could  never  forget,  all  day  long,  morn- 
ing till  night,  even  in  his  pyjamas,  that  he  had  been  an 
officer  in  the  militia.  And  he  was,  moreover,  a  man  of 
mild,  conservative  views,  which  he  was  fond  of  express- 
ing with  a  reflective  nod.  "  Any  one  who  has  had  to 
struggle  as  I  have  had  to  win  a  modest  competency  and 
the  respect  of  his  fellows  is  opposed  to  headlong  advance. " 

Wild  reports  about  his  past  spread  from  house  to  house. 
Some  said  he  had  won  half  a  million  in  a  lottery ;  others 
that  he  showed  his  Hamburg  solicitor  how  to  win  an  im- 
mensely important  suit ;  others  that  the  royal  family  from 
whom  he  sprang  had  pushed  him  on;  others,  again,  that 
the  daughter  of  an  admiral  was  in  love  with  him,  and  had 
persuaded  her  father  to  give  him  the  contracts  for  the 
marine;  and  this  last  report,  in  different  forms,  gained 
great  acceptance,  and  vastly  strengthened  Tjark  Dusen- 
schon's  position. 

He  certainly  was  magnificent.  For  many  a  man  in  Hilli- 
genlei  it  was  the  moment  of  his  life  when  Tjark  Dusen- 
schon  showed  him  his  motor,  or  the  bacon-chopper,  or  the 
bone-breaker,  or  let  him  peep  into  the  great  sausage- 
kettle. 

These  were  fine  days  for  many  people.  The  indepen- 
dent gentlemen  living  in  Paul  Street  spent  the  whole 
summer  leaning  over  their  garden  gates,  pipe  in  mouth, 
telling  each  other  the  latest  stories  about  Tjark  Dusen- 
schon.  When  there  was  anything  really  special — the  in- 
troduction of  a  new  machine,  or  the  use  of  twenty  pigs 
instead  of  ten — then,  and  on  no  other  occasion,  they 
would  tear  themselves  from  their  gates  to  come  and  speak 
together.  From  five  in  the  afternoon  the  bars  were 
crowded,  ringing  with  talk  of  the  splendid  present  con- 
dition of  Hilligenlci,  and  the  possibilities  of  its  future. 
Nagel,  the  locksmith,  and  Sagebock,  the  carpenter,  whom 
their  wives  did  not  usually  let  out  of  the  house,  would 
pretend  that  urgent  work  called  them  forth,  and,  sallying 
out,  apron  on  and  tools  in  hand,  would  stand  talking  at 
street  corners,  since  they  had  no  money  to  spend  on  drink. 

At  tea-time — that's  to  say,  from  eight  o'clock  in  the 
morning — and  at  coffee-time — from  one  o'clock  in  the 
afternoon — a  perfect  crowd  of  old  women  sat  with  Rieke 
Thomson,  Stiena  Dusenschon  in  the  midst,  swaying  on 


222  HOLYLAND 

her  chair  to  the  strains  of  a  wondrous  waltz,  her  bonnet- 
strings  flying;  and  Rieke  said,  as  she  sat  in  her  big  arm- 
chair and  gazed,  now  into  the  street,  now  across  the  bay, 
' '  When  he  was  a  little  boy — a  thing  only  a  year  old — I 
used  to  say  often  he  would  be  something  remarkable. 
The  other  children  that  used  to  play  about  here — Lau  and 
Jans  and  the  Bojes — were  not  to  be  compared  with  him." 

No  one  in  Hilligenlei  was  so  busy  as  Heine  Wulk  and 
Jeff  Buhmann.  Their  thoughts  had  always  soared  above 
those  of  the  ordinary  Hilligenleier,  and  now  more  than  ever. 
Not  only  did  Jeff  get  hold  of  a  plan  of  the  great  slaughter- 
house at  Chicago  and  lecture  Tjark  Dusenschon  half- 
round  the  bay  about  the  increase  of  his  business  on  the 
strength  of  it,  pointing  wildly  to  the  sky  with  the  rusty 
blade  of  his  knife,  but  he  expounded  the  idea  that  Tjark 
should  employ  some  of  his  wealth  and  machinery  in  assist- 
ing the  slow  demolition  of  the  sandbank.  "  If  you  put  in 
five  hundred  you'll  get  two  thousand  back."  And,  in  the 
rather  shy  manner  in  which  he  always  approached  his 
former  friend,  he  suggested  the  plan. 

It  was  received  with  a  smile.  Meantime,  Heine  Wulk 
wrote  a  long  private  letter  in  his  best  style  to  the  editor 
of  the  geography  used  in  the  schools  of  the  district  re- 
questing him  to  insert  in  the  next  edition  under  Hilli- 
genlei the  words  "noted  for  its  sausage  manufactory," 
and  in  a  flowery  leading  article  referred  to  the  legend  that 
a  son  of  Hilligenlei  was  "  to  make  of  the  town  a  veritable 
Holyland." 

It  can  easily  be  understood  that  resistance  to  one  who 
dressed  and  behaved  like  Tjark  Dusenschon  was  not  easy. 
There  is  one,  however — one  who  has  known  him  from 
childhood — who  tried  once  in  vain  to  make  an  honest  man 
of  him — one  who  will  resist  him  ! 

When  Tjark  Dusenschon  appeared,  on  the  second  day, 
on  the  threshold  of  Pe  Ontjes  Lau's  warehouse,  Pe  looked 
at  him  questioningly,  looked  at  his  great  pockets  with 
their  lappets,  and  the  serious,  clean-shaven  face,  and, 
getting  up  slowly,  said,  "  Take  a  seat,  Tjark — I  am  glad 
of  your  success."  Then,  with  an  awkward  attempt  at  a 
jest,  "  Now  you  must  help  me  to  have  the  harbour  stream 
laid  deeper !  " 

A  faint  twinkle  appeared  in  Tjark's  eyes.  "That  is 
what  I  came  to  talk  to  you  about. ' ' 


HOLYLAND  223 

After  this  he  would  come  once  a  week  towards  evening  to 
Pe  Ontjes'  room  and  chat  pleasantly  of  this  and  that,  con- 
fiding' to  him  that  business  wasn't  going  very  well  yet — the 
whole  thing  was  too  small,  too  provisional.  "  At  present  I 
can't  put  any  more  money  into  it,"  he  said,  "because  the 
great  part  of  my  capital  is  invested  in  a  cardboard  factory 
in  Berlin,  and  brings  me  in  very  good  interest." 

Anna  never  appeared  when  Tjark  was  there.  If  she 
happened  to  be  in  the  office  or  the  warehouse  when  he 
came  she  departed  with  a  silent  inclination  of  the  head. 
In  her  calm,  clear  voice  she  would  say,  "You  and  Kai 
have  often  told  me  what  he  was  like  as  a  boy.  People 
do  not  change." 

Pe  Ontjes  looked  at  her  a  trifle  mockingly.  "  What 
does  Mother  Boje  say  of  her  children  ?  Proud  !  proud  ! 
Tjark  Dusenschon  went  barefoot  as  a  boy.  Anna  Boje 
cannot  forget  that." 

"  Indeed  !  "  she  said,  holding  her  head  high  and  fixing 
her  eyes  upon  him.  "  And  what  do  the  Bojes  say  to  Kai 
Jans?  " 

"  Oh,  he's  a  student!  " 

"Really!  "  she  mocked,  and  then  turning,  went  into 
the  sitting-room  and  played  with  her  child. 

A  few  weeks  later  Pe  came  into  the  room  where  she  sat 
with  her  child  and  said,  eagerly,  "  Do  you  know,  dear, 
the  harbour  is  soon  going  to  be  deepened?  Dusenschon 
will  see  it  through.  Though  he  says  very  little  about 
it,  the  Government  backs  him  up  somehow  or  other.  It 
is  desirous  of  helping  our  town,  its  natural  position  being 
so  poor,  and  has  therefore  authorised  the  establishment 
of  his  manufactory,  and  promised  to  give  him  army  con- 
tracts. And,  anyhow,  I  must  confess,  after  watching 
him  pretty  carefully,  that  there  is  nothing  of  his  former 
character  left.  The  list  fifteen  years  have  made  a  serious 
man  of  him." 

Anna's  expression  was  perfectly  unmoved.  "I  have 
never  known  a  man  really  converted.  You  hear  it  in 
church  every  Sunday,  '  Whoso  is  not  converted  will  go 
to  hell,'  but  I  have  never  met  any  one  who  was  converted. 
Some  people  are  said  to  have  become  pious  and  church- 
goers, but  all  their  wickednesses  are  there,  under  the 
cloak  of  piety.  I  have  seen  men  change  their  coats,  but 
never  one  change  his  nature," 


224  HOLYLAND 

' '  Good  Heavens  !  ' '  said  Pe.  ' '  How  old  are  you  ? 
Twenty-seven !  But  you  Bojes  know  everything,  and 
can  do  everything!  " 

Her  beautiful  eyes  darkened  with  anger.  The  Bojes 
could  not  endure  any  criticism  of  their  family  or  character. 
"  You're  a  great,  strong  man,"  said  she;  "but  any  one 
with  a  quicker  mind  confuses  you  at  once.  I  knew  that 
from  the  first,  and  feared  it."  She  shut  the  door  behind 
her,  and  remained  the  rest  of  the  day  in  the  bedroom  and 
kitchen. 

So  Tjark  Dusenschon  was  a  prince  in  Hilligenlei. 
When  all  the  other  towns  that  lie  scattered  along  the 
wide  green  outline  between  Denmark  and  Hamburg — 
Tondern  and  Husum,  Tonning  and  Meldorf,  Wilster 
Krempe  and  Gliickstadt — heard  of  the  fortune  of  Hilli- 
genlei they  mocked  at  first.  They  were  always  ready  to 
mock  at  Hilligenlei  for  its  laziness,  and  say  it  would  all 
come  to  nothing;  so  they  said,  "  So  Hilligenlei,  the  Holy- 
land,  is  to  be  made  into  sausages  !  " 

But  when  they  got  to  know  Tjark  Dusenschon,  and  it 
was  explained  how  he  had  the  Government  behind  him, 
their  mockery  was  exchanged  for  green-eyed  envy.  This 
year,  when  a  man  from  Hilligenlei  came  to  any  one  of 
these  towns,  his  legs  were  stiff er,  and  his  shoulders 
higher,  and  his  voice  shriller  than  ever  before,  and  he 
laughed  in  a  superior  manner  at  whatever  the  others  said  : 
even  the  Hamburgers,  who  are  self-satisfied  enough. 
This  autumn  the  Hilligenlei  merchants  who  came  to  buy 
in  their  stock — a  hundred  pounds  of  currants,  or  pig-iron, 
or  whatever  they  wanted — were  too  proud  for  words,  and 
when  they  sat  in  front  of  the  Alster  pavilion  drinking  their 
coffee  their  legs  stretched  half-way  down  the  Biirgerstieg. 

Thus,  after  mouldering  away  for  hundreds  of  years, 
Hilligenlei  at  last  blossomed  forth  again.  The  glorious 
old  legend  of  the  Holyland  seemed  at  last  to  be  gradually 
fulfilling  itself  in  the  guise  of  Tjark  Dusenschon 's  sausage 
manufactory. 

And  all  this  autumn  the  children  played  as  their  fancy 
led  them — in  the  play-places  of  the  moat,  the  harbour,  or 
upon  the  heights.  Under  the  old  lime-trees  by  the  school 
the  younger  boys  ran  after  the  elder,  calling  out  the 
names  of  the  girls  whom  they  worshipped,  and  doing 
everything  else  in  their  power  to  irritate  them,  till  the 


HOLYLAND  225 

elders  turned  round,  chased  them,  burying  anyone  they 
caught  in  the  great  heaps  of  dry  lime-leaves. 

And  gradually  a  game  began  in  the  little  gabled  house 
under  the  chestnuts — the  old  sacred  game  that  only  two 
can  play ;  a  third  spoils  sport. 

Heinke  Boje's  year  of  service  was  over,  and  she  had 
come  home  again.  She  stood  over  the  cooking  by  the 
fire,  looked  after  the  two  schoolboys  in  the  gabled  room, 
and  sat  by  the  window  with  her  knitting  or  mending. 
She  was  a  woman  now,  tall  and  stately  in  presence,  quiet 
and  gentle  in  her  ways,  and  missed  the  wider  atmosphere  of 
the  rectory  and  her  talks  with  the  good,  eccentric  clergy- 
man. Looking  thoughtfully  out  over  the  dark  water  in 
the  moat  she  read  Kai  Jans'  letters  and  wrote  to  him,  then, 
shaking  off  her  dreams,  she  would  go  to  her  sister  and  say, 
"  I  want  to  play  with  baby  a  little."  She  took  the  child 
into  the  sitting-room,  and,  kneeling  down  to  gaze  at  it, 
pressed  it  to  her  breast  and  cuddled  it  tenderly  as  if  she 
could  never  look  enough  at  it. 

Then  she  gave  the  child  back  to  Anna  and  went  home. 
On  the  way  home  and  at  her  work  she  became  quiet  and 
peaceful  again,  and  had  anyone  asked  her,  she  would 
have  replied,  as  she  had  done  two  years  ago,  "  I  am  quite 
happy."  What  made  her  happy  was  the  fact  that  Kai 
Jans  was  her  friend,  and  that  unconsciously  she  cherished 
a  sweet  hope. 

So  every  afternoon  about  four  she  sat  at  the  window 
bending  her  head  under  its  weight  of  light-brown  hair 
just  as  Anna  had  done.  The  sixth  form  boys  glanced 
sideways  in  at  the  window  as  they  passed,  but  she  took 
no  notice. 

She  was  sitting  thus  by  the  window  one  misty  afternoon 
in  October,  dreaming.  Hearing  the  sound  of  boyish  feet, 
she  looked  up,  for  the  bright  young  faces  pleased  her. 
But  when  she  raised  her  eyes  she  saw  in  the  midst  of  the 
eager  herd  of  boys  a  strange  young  man  with  a  bundle 
of  books  under  his  arm ;  and  as  the  boys  looked  in  at 
the  window  and  nodded  to  her  as  usual,  the  young  teacher, 
looking  up  also,  saw  the  proud  face  beneath  the  mass  of 
shining  hair,  and  gravely  lifted  his  cap. 

A  few  days  later,  as  she  was  going  over  to  see  her 
sister,  hatless  and  in  her  apron,  just  as  she  was,  she  met 
the  young  teacher  walking  along,  deep  in  thought,  as 


226  HOLYLAND 

became  a  scholar,  with  his  eyes  on  the  ground.  He  was 
about  her  own  height,  and  a  certain  simplicity  and  goodness 
in  his  appearance  and  bearing  pleased  her  without  her  being 
conscious  of  it.  Hearing  someone  coming  towards  him,  he 
lifted  up  his  eyes,  and  stood  for  the  moment  astounded  by 
the  lovely  vision  before  him.  Recovering  himself  instantly, 
he  made  her  a  deep  and  respectful  bow.  She  looked  at 
him  with  the  calm  simplicity  natural  to  her,  thinking  hap- 
pily, ' '  What  nice,  clever  eyes  he  has  !  and  how  serious  he 
looks  !  " 

As  she  was  returning  home  after  playing  with  Anna's 
child  she  met  a  little  second  form  boy  with  whom  she  had 
one  of  her  somewhat  quarrelsome  friendships.  Catching 
hold  of  him  by  the  neck  of  his  coat,  she  asked  how  he  was 
getting  on  and  whether  he  had  anything  to  do  with  the 
new  teacher. 

' '  Which  do  you  mean  ?  "  he  said.  ' '  There  are  two 
new  ones — one  thin  and  the  other  stout ;  one  black  and 
the  other  fair. ' ' 

"  I  don't  know,  sir,"  she  said.  "  I  don't  ask  because 
I'm  interested  in  the  teachers,  but  in  you." 

"  They're  both  good — nearly  all  the  young  teachers  are. 
The  fair-haired  one " 

1  He  isn't  fair  at  all " 

'Well,  he  isn't  dark,  either." 

'  He  has  brown  hair." 

'  That's  Mr.  Volquardsen.  We  call  him  Peter,  because 
he  s  good-tempered,  and  I  think  Peter  is  his  name,  really. 
He  only  teaches  German,  history,  and  English.  The  other 
day  he  took  three  fellows  in  the  fifth  into  his  room  and 
showed  them  pictures.  He's  mad  about  pictures.  The 
other,  the  black-haired  one " 

"What  do  I  care  about  your  teachers?  Run  away 
now  !  ' ' 

In  the  next  few  weeks  he  saw  nothing  as  he  passed  but 
the  shining  plaits  of  fair  hair  that  lay  massed  so  sleek  and 
neat  on  her  young  head.  She  only  saw  his  fine,  silver 
watch  chain,  the  hand  that  grasped  his  books,  and  his  loose- 
limbed  walk.  "  He's  still  quite  a  boy,"  she  thought. 
"  One  could  not  possibly  marry  anyone  like  that.  Compare 
him  with  Kai  Jans — a  real  strong  man  !  " 

So  winter  passed,  and  the  first  mild  day  of  early  spring 
came  with  soft,  cautious  feet.  All  the  morning  she  had 


HOLYLAND  227 

felt  a  curious  restlessness;  strange  thoughts  passed 
through  her  mind  as  she  sang-;  she  felt  a  desire  to  dance 
or  run  in  the  green  woods,  or  w^alk  against  the  fresh, 
sunny  breeze  with  Anna's  child  jumping  in  her  arms. 

In  the  afternoon,  when  she  had  cleared  away,  she  put 
on  her  blue  dress  and  a  thin  black  summer  jacket,  and 
walked  up  to  the  downs,  her  wonderful  joyousness  still 
with  her  in  the  lovely  sunshine  that  filled  the  landscape 
before  her. 

As  she  reached  the  heights  a  funeral  passed  on  the  high 
road  between  Volkmersdorf  and  Hilligenlei.  In  front  was 
the  coffin,  on  a  heavy  corn-waggon  :  behind,  the  seven  or 
eight  carts  of  which  Volkmersdorf  could  boast :  in  the  back- 
ground the  dark  line  of  the  distant  Holstein  woods.  As  she 
stood  looking  down  she  thought  how  beautiful  it  was  to 
grow  up  in  a  quiet  village,  never  wandering  elsewhere,  but 
spending  there  the  days  of  an  innocent  and  laborious  exist- 
ence— to  live  and  to  die  there,  and  at  last  to  be  buried  on 
just  such  a  first  day  of  spring  in  the  shadow  of  the  venerable 
cathedral;  and  the  thought  increased  her  cheerfulness. 

On  her  way  home,  just  before  she  came  to  the  town, 
she  met  a  little  girl,  who  had  been  wheeling  her  sister  in 
a  barrow,  and  upset  barrow  and  all  in  the  road.  She 
laughed  as  she  helped  the  child  to  put  it  all  to  rights 
again. 

She  met  no  one  in  the  town.  Alone  in  the  world,  dis- 
turbed with  the  joy  of  elevated  thoughts,  she  was  in 
touch  with  the  eternal,  and  in  her  eyes  shone  the  re- 
flection of  this  inward  light. 

As  she  turned  into  the  park  she  met  Dete  Greve,  a 
little  girl  of  ten  years  old,  who  smiled  up  at  her,  saying, 
"  You  look  like  Ruth  going  out  to  her  gleaning  in  the 
morning." 

"  What  makes  you  think  of  that,  child?  "  she  said. 

"There's  a  picture  of  her  at  school." 

Heinke  bent  down,  and,  laying  her  hands  on  the  little 
maiden's  shoulders,  said,  "  I  know  nothing  about  Ruth; 
but  never  mind,  there's  a  kiss  for  you."  She  was  fond 
of  the  child  with  her  pretty,  artless  ways. 

She  had  turned  under  the  chestnuts,  and  was  already 
near  home,  when  the  young  teacher  came  towards  her. 
Lost  in  thought,  he  did  not  see  her,  but  just  as  he  passed 
the  house  he  turned  his  head  cautiously  to  see  whether 

Q  2 


228  HOLYLAND 

the  fair  head  was  at  the  window.  An  expression  of  half- 
comic  anger  crossed  his  face  when  he  did  not  see  her 
there,  and,  like  a  disappointed  hunter,  he  said,  "  Bah!  " 
softly  to  himself,  and  raised  his  eyes  to  find  her  just  in  front 
of  him,  smiling  into  his  face,  the  joyousness  of  her  soul 
sparkling  in  her  eyes  and  radiating  from  her  presence. 

"Oh!  "  he  said  confusedly,  "there  you  are!  "  and, 
biting  his  lips  and  laughing  in  a  rather  embarrassed 
manner,  he  went  on  his  way. 

As  she  went  about  her  work  his  quaint  expression  and 
sudden  flush  rose  constantly  before  her.  She  felt  now 
that  she  knew  not  only  his  face,  but  something  of  his 
character — at  least  that  there  was  a  roguish  sense  of 
humour  mixed  up  with  his  grave  seriousness  of  purpose. 
And  he  had  her  smiling  beauty  continually  before  him. 

A  week  later  the-mathematical  master,  a  good-tempered 
but  very  punctilious  man,  took  his  young  colleague  aside 
one  day  in  the  passage.  ' '  You  must  promise  not  to  laugh 
at  what  I  am  going  to  say. ' ' 

He  did  so,  although  with  a  sinking  heart. 

The  other  continued  :  "I  know  that  you  come  from  a 
good  and  very  respectable  family.  I  expect  your  mother 
has  always  looked  after  her  son's  clothes  and  kept  them 
mended  herself,  whereas  now  you  have  had  to  trust  to 
strangers.  Well,  for  the  last  fortnight  there  has  been  a 
piece  of  black  lining  hanging  out  from  the  right-hand  side 
of  your  jacket. " 

At  first  he  drew  himself  up,  and  said  stiffly  he  would 
send  down  the  fifth  form.  That  was  all  he  had  to  say. 
Then  he  became  angry  and  abused  his  landlady.  Then 
he  laughed  and  asked  the  mathematical  master  whether  he 
knew  of  any  good  lodgings,  and  he  sent  him  to  the 
headmaster,  who  mentioned  several  names,  among  them 
that  of  Mrs.  Boje,  the  teacher's  widow,  who  lived  in  a 
little  house  near  the  park.  "  Their  gable  room  has  been 
vacant  since  autumn  :  the  woman  is  quiet  and  cleanly." 

The  same  evening  he  spent  an  hour  walking  up  and 
down  in  the  dark.  Nine  times  he  paced  up  and  down 
the  whole  length  of  the  chestnut  avenue,  deep  in  thought. 
He  felt  that  he  was  about  to  take  a  step  which  would 
affect  the  whole  course  of  his  life.  At  last  he  shook  him- 
self and  went  in ;  the  sound  of  the  bell  terrified  him,  and 
he  looked  gloomily  into  the  passage. 


HOLYLAND  229 

The  room  door  opened,  and  Heinke  stood  in  the  circle 
of  light,   thinking,   "He  is  playing  some  stupid  trick." 
She  invited  him  to  come  in  calmly,  though  with  some 
inward  confusion.     "  Mother  is  not  in,"  she  said. 

He  came  in  and  sat  down  in  her  mother's  comfortable 
armchair,  and  told  her,  with  recovered  spirits  and  twink- 
ling eyes,  the  unfortunate  incident  of  his  torn  coat.  She 
listened  with  twitching  lips  and  wide-open  eyes,  thinking, 
' '  What  a  man  !  he  sits  there  and  talks  to  me  as  if  we 
had  known  each  other  in  pinafores — but  he's  so  natural 
and  genuine  one  can't  be  angry."  She  smiled  at  him. 
He  had  come  now  to  ask  whether  Mrs.  Boje  would  let  him 
the  gable  room,  and  look  after  him  a  little.  That  was 
all  he  wanted.  He  would  have  his  meals  at  a  restaurant, 
and  his  washing  was  sent  home.  She  thought,  "Of 
course  he  shall  have  the  gable  room.  What  a  nice,  funny 
man  !  To  think  of  his  being  an  M.A.  and  a  teacher." 

"We  have  only  had  schoolboys  hitherto,"  she  said, 
"never  a  teacher.  We  are  very  simple  in  our  ways." 

"That  suits  me  exactly,"  he  said,  looking  round  and 
finally  rising  to  take  Pete's  photograph  from  the  dresser. 
After  examining  it  calmly,  he  said,  "  There  is  a  very 
strong  likeness.  This  is  your  brother  Pete.  I  have  heard 
all  about  your  family."  Looking  about  him  again,  he 
said,  "It  reminds  me  very  much  of  my  home,  all  this, 
except  that  the  room  there  is  about  three  times  as  big 
as  this.  We  have  a  farm  at  Liibeck.  I  like  this  house 
very  much.  The  gable  is  nice,  and  the  shadows  of  the 
chestnut  leaves  play  on  the  wall  in  the  afternoons." 

"And  the  inhabitants?'    said  Heinke. 

"  Oh,"  said  he,  "  I  shall  get  on  with  your  mother.  I 
saw  her  once  at  the  window  :  that  will  be  easy  enough. 
You  don't  know  how  I  manage  my  mother  !  And  you? 
I  shan't  quarrel  with  you  !  " 

"  How  do  you  know  that?" 

"  Well,  the  other  day  when  I  made  a  face  at  your 
window,  another  girl  would  have  been  shocked,  or 
offended,  or  embarrassed ;  but  you  did  what  your  healthy 
mind  suggested,  exactly  the  right  thing — you  laughed  at 
me.  You're  always  natural,  and  find  pleasure  in  natural 
things." 

'Yes,"  said  she,  "especially  the  stupidest  and  most 
trifling  things." 


23o  HOLYLAND 

"  There  you  are,"  he  said,  enjoying  her  raillery. 

In  the  midst  of  the  conversation  Mrs.  Boje  came  in,  and 
Heinke  went  out  to  get  the  supper  ready.  She  heard  him 
go  out,  with  a  cheerful  good-night,  shortly  afterwards. 

He  came  next  day  with  his  box  of  books  and  the  un- 
fortunate jacket,  and  moved  into  the  gable  room.  He 
covered  the  walls  with  his  beloved  pictures,  and  laid  a 
number  of  grey  portfolios  of  them  on  the  table.  And  on 
the  third  day  he  made  honourable  confession  that  when 
Heinke  stood  at  his  door  in  the  afternoon  with  the  coffee, 
she  was  far,  far  more  beautiful  than  all  the  pictures  he 
possessed.  She  saw  that  he  was  not  one  of  those  connois- 
seurs who,  in  their  admiration  of  an  antique  portico, 
forget  the  child  on  the  threshold,  and  he  rose  in  her 
esteem. 

Her  mother  said,  "  I  am  sure  he  would  be  just  as  glad 
to  come  down  and  have  his  coffee  with  us." 

"  Oh,  no,"  said  she  decisively,  "he  is  a  very  peculiar 
person,  and  says  he  can  only  drink  his  coffee  among  his 
pictures. ' ' 

' '  Nonsense, ' '  said  the  mother. 

"Yes,"  said  she,  "that's  true,  unfortunately.  He's 
always  talking  nonsense,  but  it's  impossible  to  be  angry 
with  him. " 

He  drank  his  coffee  quickly,  standing  the  while,  while 
she  stood  before  one  or  other  of  his  admirable  little  pic- 
tures, excellent  reproductions  of  new  and  old  masterpieces. 
He  would  come  up  to  her  and  explain  the  beauty  of  the 
pictures  in  well-chosen  words,  telling  her  which  of  them 
he  had  seen,  and  recalling  a  trip  which  he  had  made  as 
far  as  Palermo,  as  a  student,  two  years  ago.  She  felt 
and  understood  what  he  told  her  about  the  pictures,  and 
found  a  wholly  new  and  delightful  pleasure  in  it,  seldom 
contradicting  what  he  said.  She  admired  especially 
Lenbach's  portrait  of  Bismarck,  Diirer's  Knight  with 
Death  and  the  Devil  behind  him,  Bocklin's  portrait  of  him- 
self, with  Death  in  the  background  playing  his  victim's 
funeral  chant.  An  Italian  princess  whom  he  greatly 
admired  she  did  not  like.  "  She  has  got  herself  up  with 
her  coronet  and  necklace,  and  is  quite  good  at  present,  but 
she  will  bite  very  soon  !  ' ' 

"  Well,"  said  he,  "  and  what  about  you?  One  is  afraid 
when  one  looks  at  you;  now  it's  coming,  one  thinks," 


HOLYLAND  231 

"  What  is  coming?" 

"  There's  something-  in  you  I  don't  know  yet.  ...  I 
cannot  tell,"  he  said  thoughtfully.  He  looked  at  her  with 
a  scrutinising  gaze,  as  if  she  were  one  of  his  pictures ;  her 
eyes  met  his,  serious  and  self-possessed  as  ever.  They 
puzzled  one  another. 

Later  on  he  had  a  portfolio  open  on  the  table  when 
she  came,  and  they  both  leaned  over  the  table  and  ex- 
amined it.  He  did  not  mind  at  all  whether  the  figures 
were  nude  or  draped,  and  she  saw  no  harm  in  it 
either.  With  a  serious  and  understanding  joy  he  showed 
her  the  beauties  in  which  his  trained  eye  rejoiced, 
and  she  felt  her  soul  expand,  her  cheeks  flush,  and 
her  breath  come  quickly,  as  she  said,  "  Life  is  ever 
so  much  greater  and  more  beautiful  when  one  can  enjoy 
such  things." 

"Yes,  indeed,"  he  said.  "And  Nature  most  of  all; 
what  joys  she  has  for  those  who  can  appreciate  her 
beauty.  Some  day  we  must  take  a  long  walk  alone 
together,  and  I  will  show  you  everything  I  see. ' ' 

She  nodded  thoughtfully.     "  Lovely,"  she  said. 

"We  shall  have  splendid  times,  alone  with  you, 
Heinke." 

"  So,"  she  said,  "  you've  got  to  '  Heinke  '  already  !  " 

"  Oh,"  said  he,  "  let  me,  when  we  are  alone;  it  is  such 
a  wonderful  thing  to  think  that  I  can  call  the  most  beauti- 
ful thing  in  nature  by  a  Christian  name  !" 

"  What  is  the  most  beautiful  thing?"  she  laughed. 

"  Heinke  Boje!" 

"  So  I  imagined. ' ' 

They  bent  once  more  over  the  portfolio,  and  he  showed 
her  everything,  tracing  the  pictures  with  his  finger.  He 
called  her  Heinke,  and  she  him,  'Peter'  or  'Peterkin,' 
but  they  laughed  every  time.  Sometimes  when  they  sat 
together,  he  would  pass  his  arm  through  hers  and  hold  her 
wrist;  sometimes  she  thought,  "  He  is  a  bold  fellow,  he 
does  just  what  he  likes  !"  but  she  calmed  herself  with  the 
thought  that  everything  was  possible  to  a  pure  and  inno- 
cent heart.  He  never  forgot  himself.  He  was  always  a 
kind,  teasing  brother,  talking  in  jest  and  earnest  to  a 
pretty  sister.  So  their  intercourse  was  free  and  harm- 
less, and  she  allowed  herself  to  enjoy  the  good  she  found 
in  it;  certainly  she  surprised  him,  often  she  contradicted 


232  HOLYLAND 

him,  and  it  was  no  good  his  opening  his  eyes  wide,  and 
getting  annoyed  and  shaking  her  by  the  wrist. 

She  stayed  exactly  half  an  hour  with  him,  then  got  up 
and  went. 

So  the  ten  weeks  to  Whitsuntide  passed  away,  and  she 
thought,  "  My  life  has  become  quite  rich  and  bright;  it 
is  lovely,  being  with  him,  with  him  it  is  always  Sunday." 

And  to  herself  she  thought  "  How  funny  that  he  does  not 
want  to  kiss  me  !  He  is  only  a  boy,  after  all,  and  I  ought 
not  to  have  such  thoughts.  If  it  were  Kai  Jans  !  He 
would  treat  Heinke  Boje  rather  differently  !  " 


CHAPTER  XX 

ABOUT  Whitsuntide  an  unwholesome  breeze  blew  over 
the  land,  and  many  people  fell  sick.  It  filled  the  coffins  in 
the  little  town  of  Hilligenlei,  and  one  of  them  stood  in  the 
blue-walled  room  in  the  long  houses  where  Kai  Jans  had 
lived  as  a  schoolboy,  and  in  it  his  mother. 

She  had  not  complained  of  much  pain,  but  grew  weaker 
and  weaker,  and  when  she  lay  down  on  the  sixth  day  she 
knew  that  death  was  drawing  near.  While  Thomas  Jans 
ran  to  fetch  a  dram  from  the  chemist  in  the  hope  of  its 
giving  relief,  she  commissioned  Heinke  to  ask  him  to  give 
her  love  to  the  children ;  she  did  not  want  her  husband  to 
know  that  the  end  was  already  drawing  near,  and  she  felt 
she  might  not  have  the  strength  left  to  say  what  she  wanted 
later.  So  she  told  Heinke  also,  that  she  wanted  a  certain 
old  woman  to  wash  her;  no  one  else  was  to  be  present, 
not  even  her  husband ;  and  if,  at  the  time  of  her  death, 
the  child  of  the  new  tenants  of  the  long  house  were  asleep, 
it  was  to  be  wakened,  so  that  no  harm  could  come  to  it. 

About  midnight,  feeling  very  weak,  she  said  to  her 
husband  in  a  low  voice,  "  I  have  always  had  a  difficult 
temper,  and  that  has  made  it  hard  for  all  of  you,  but  I 
could  not  help  it.  Now  I  don't  know  whether  God  will 
have  any  place  for  me." 

Then,  for  the  first  time  Thomas  Jans  realised  that  his 
wife  was  leaving  him,  and  he  began  to  weep  bitterly. 
When  she  began  to  sink,  and  gradually  to  pass  away  to 
rest,  she  managed,  in  a  slow,  difficult  voice,  to 
speak  a  few  words  about  her  son.  "  He  has  no  joy  in 
the  world.  But  don't  be  sad  about  it,  father;  it's  better 
than  laughing  a  great  deal  .  .  .  only  I  wish  he  were  near 
release  from  it,  as  I  am  now." 

These  were  her  last  words.  Immediately  after  they 
were  uttered  the  heavenly  messenger  bore  away  her  soul 
on  his  broad  pinions. 


234  HOLYLAND 

Two  days  afterwards  Heinke  Boje  went  to  meet  Kai 
Jans  at  the  station,  and  told  him  about  his  mother's 
death.  He  walked  in  silence  by  her  side,  and  she  looked 
up  at  him  shyly.  There  was  more  dignity  in  his  presence 
than  of  old,  his  gait  was  less  hurried,  and  his  eyes  were 
full  of  deep  seriousness.  She  realised  that  now  he  was  a 
man;  realised  also  that  his  thoughts  were  far  away.  It 
was  a  year  and  a  half  since  she  had  seen  him  last. 

When  he  turned  from  the  open  coffin  to  the  window, 
his  father  having  gone  into  the  kitchen  to  see  about  some 
supper  for  him,  she  went  timidly  to  his  side,  and  said, 
"  Does  it  grieve  you  very  much  to  have  lost  your 
mother?" 

He  shook  his  head.  "No,"  he  said,  in  a  calm,  ex- 
pressionless voice;  "she  was  nearly  seventy,  and  had 
known  anxiety  and  hard  work,  but  happiness  also,  and 
her  death  was  happy.  Why  should  I  be  sad?  She 
reached  the  end  in  peace ;  who  knows  whether  we  shall  do 
as  much,  Heinke?  I  often  thought  while  she  lived,  that 
some  great  misfortune  might  one  day  come  upon  her,  but 
now  she  is  secure.  If  I  am  a  little  sad  in  spite  of  it  all, 
it  is  because  she  did  not  live  to  have  any  satisfaction  in 
her  son." 

' '  We  did  not  understand  everything  that  she  said  at 
the  last,"  said  Heinke,  "  but  we  could  see  that  she  had 
confidence  in  you.  And  all  who  know  you  have  that,  Kai, 
all  of  us.  You  do  not  go  along  the  level  road  like  other 
people,  but  through  the  thickets  and  over  the  pathless 
downs  :  but  at  the  last  you  will  find,  or  make  for  yourself, 
a  high  and  beautiful  path. ' ' 

"Ah,"  he  said,  stroking  her  hand,  "dear  little 
preacher  !  You  always  help  and  comfort  me. ' ' 

He  stayed  three  days,  till  after  his  mother's  funeral, 
and  another  day  afterwards  :  and  spent  the  last  two  in 
the  gable  room  in  the  little  house  under  the  chestnuts.  It 
was  just  before  Whitsunday,  and  Peter  Volquardsen  had 
gone  home  to  East  Holstein. 

On  his  return  from  the  funeral  he  went  up  into  his  room, 
and  she  soon  came  in  with  his  coffee.  Buried  deep  in 
thought  he  did  not  notice  her  entrance,  then,  when  she 
called  him  softly  by  his  name  he  roused  himself  and  said, 
looking  up  at  her,  "  You  look  even  prouder  than  you 
used !  .  ,  .  Heinke,  your  letters  have  been  a  great 


HOLYLAND  235 

pleasure  to  me,  especially  in  the  last  three  months;  they 
are  full  of  colour,  and  intelligence,  and  thought ;  the  chil- 
dren's play  place  has  grown  to  a  wide  country." 

A  faint  wave  of  pleasure  mantled  in  her  cheek.  "  You 
helped  me  so  much  when  you  told  me  to  trust  my  own 
nature;  and  the  dear  people  of  Hindorf  helped  me  too. 
I  have  to  thank  you  for  all  that. ' ' 

A  sensation  of  burning  love  made  her  eyes  dark  and 
misty ;  she  would  have  said  more,  but  she  saw  that  he  was 
already  occupied  with  other  thoughts. 

After  a  time  he  looked  around  the  room  and  said,  "  The 
man  who  lodges  here  seems  to  be  a  person  of  refinement. " 

She  told  him  that  he  was  a  nice  young  fellow,  very  well 
educated,  and  how  they  talked  together  every  day. 

He  looked  at  some  of  the  pictures,  and  said,  "  I  am  very 
fond  of  art  in  every  form,  but  men  interest  me  far  more." 

"Yes,"  she  said,  "you  are  like  that.  .  „  .  I  am 
different,"  she  went  on  thoughtfully,  "  I  am  not  much 
interested  in  strange  people,  but  I  find  great  joy  in  nature 
and  in  art." 

He  looked  at  her  thoughtfully.  "  And  yet  we  are  such 
good  friends." 

"Just  because  we  are  so  different,  Kai.  Man  seeks 
his  opposite." 

He  did  not  listen,  but  said  half  to  himself,  "  My  own 
temperament  and  my  hard  youth  have  made  me  difficult — 
that's  what  it  is." 

After  a  while  she  began  again  : 

"  How  old  are  you  now?" 

"  Thirty-one,"  he  said. 

"Thirty-one,"  she  repeated  slowly,  then  hesitatingly 
added,  "  I  am  going  to  be  twenty-two." 

"  Yes,"  said  he,  "  you  could  marry  now." 

She  regarded  him  with  the  frank,  open  gaze  that  was 
peculiar  to  her  and  her  sister.  "Watch  now,  my  eyes; 
here  is  a  man's  soul  bared  before  you, "  she  seemed  to  think. 

But  he  said  no  more. 

A  vague  melancholy  settled  down  upon  her.  ..."  Now 
I  know,  ...  I  shall  never  be  his  wife,  .  .  .  what  then? 
.  .  .  All  your  thoughts  are  in  Berlin,"  she  said  softly. 

The  word  was  like  a  call  to  arms.  He  woke  up,  and 
said  in  a  voice  full  of  life  and  animation, 

"  You  cannot  imagine  what  a  stir  and  confusion  there  is 


236  HOLYLAND 

nowadays,  not  only  in  Berlin,  but  all  over  the  country. 
Think  of  the  extraordinary  economic  transformation  that 
has  taken  place  within  the  last  thirty  years  !  People  are 
pouring-  from  the  eastern  Elbe  districts  over  to  Berlin, 
Hamburg  and  Westphalia.  Thousands  of  men,  taking 
wives  and  children  with  them,  are  leaving  their  homes  be- 
neath the  open  sky,  where  the  wind  blows  free  across  the 
wide  green  fields,  because  they  are  miserable,  oppressed  and 
landless,  and  crowding  into  Berlin.  And  the  way  they  live 
there  !  If  they  look  out  of  the  windows  they  see  instead  of 
the  green  chestnuts  and  shining  water,  the  miserable  grey 
walls  of  other  houses  with  their  blank  staring  windows. 
They  played  as  children  in  the  meadows  and  the  woods  : 
their  children  play  in  slums,  where  the  sun  can  never  pene- 
trate. You  may  think  from  that  how  dreary  and  confused 
their  minds  are ;  with  what  sort  of  feelings  they  regard  the 
landlords,  for  whom  they  have  purchased,  with  the  sweat 
of  their  brow,  the  wide  woods  and  meadows  that  were 
once  their  homes  :  or  the  Church  which  sees  them  driven 
forth  without  doing  or  saying  anything  to  help  them  :  or 
the  rich,  leading  their  vain,  peacock  existence,  a  few 
streets  away  from  them. 

' '  The  great  economic  change  was  followed  hard  by  a 
most  tremendous  religious  upheaval.  Scientific  investiga- 
tion has  undermined  the  very  basis  of  the  two  great  creeds. 
Now  they  are  mere  lay  figures  decked  out  and  propped  up 
to  look  as  if  they  were  alive ;  the  great  majority  of  the  people 
know  that  they  are  dead,  and  trouble  no  more  about  them. 
Men  have  no  religion  now,  and  that  robs  them  of  happiness 
and  peace  and  leaves  them  hopeless,  joyless  and  dejected, 
without  any  aim  or  purpose  in  their  lives. 

"  In  every  department  of  life,  of  custom,  of  morality,  the 
same  vague  search  and  questioning  is  going  on.  It  is  the 
same  in  art,  in  education,  in  law,  in  society  :  everywhere 
the  same.  .  .  .  Every  hundred  years  there  comes  a  period 
of  restlessness,  a  fever  rages,  a  fever  that  brings  its  own 
cure.  The  old  corruptions  will  be  cleansed  from  the  fevered 
blood,  and  instead  there  will  come  new  blood,  fresh  and 
living. 

"  Once  more  our  nation  is  convulsed  by  the  need  of  a 
renascence  of  the  three  great  powers,  to  which  itself  gave 
birth,  Authority,  Religion,  Custom ;  once  more  it  is  rent  by 
the  longing  to  return  to  nature,  to  the  beauty  of  religion,  of 
social  justice,  and  a  simple  and  genuine  ideal  of  life. 


HOLYLAND  237 

"And  Heinke,  the  renascence  has  begun  already,  new 
forces  are  already  at  work,  thousands  feel  themselves 
already  in  sight  of  the  Holyland.  There  is  such  a  search- 
ing of  the  Bible,  such  a  movement  in  the  Government,  such 
a  waving  of  the  standards  of  labour,  such  new  life  in  art 
and  education  !  But  it  is  as  yet  an  incoherent  stirring  and 
striving;  disturbed  every  now  and  then  by  the  agonising 
dread  that,  after  all,  we  may  fail  to  find  the  new  road,  and 
the  new  and  lovely  land  of  the  future,  and,  abandoning  the 
search,  remain  imprisoned  in  our  own  dead  formulas.  If 
that  were  to  happen  there  would  be  an  end  of  us  and  of  our 
future. 

' '  Listen ;  from  my  childish  days  the  world  about  me 
has  seemed  to  me  strange  and  incomprehensible.  Wind 
and  sea  I  could  understand,  meadow  and  wood ;  but  there 
was  much  that  I  failed  to  comprehend  when  I  came  to 
human  institutions,  and  the  circumstances  of  human  life. 
I  carried  about  with  me  a  vision  of  another  world,  a 
humanity  holy  and  free  from  sin,  and  this  made  me  re- 
served and  isolated  as  a  boy;  only  sometimes  I  forgot, 
I  laid  bare  my  hidden  soul  and  expressed  my  wonderment. 
Then  people  laughed,  Heinke;  ever  since  I  was  a  child  I 
have  seen  mocking  faces  round  me,  as  I  do  still.  Two  or 
three  only,  Pe  and  Anna,  and  you,  and  my  friend  in  Berlin, 
did  not  laugh,  and  they  helped  me  when  I  was  lonely  and 
forsaken. 

"  I  have  felt  sometimes  in  these  last  two  years  as  if  I 
were  working  my  way  through  the  confused  darkness  to 
the  light.  I  begin  to  feel  some  faint  self-confidence :  to 
believe  that  perhaps  I,  who  have  been  so  derided,  may 
have  been  right  after  all;  that  the  great  Dispenser  has 
given  me  no  barren  gift,  and  that  in  my  strangeness  is 
something  that  may  bear  good  fruit,  in  that  to  see  the 
world  with  the  eyes  of  a  child  is  to  see  it  more  clearly  and 
more  naturally.  And  so,  following  in  the  path  in  which 
this  new  belief  directs  me,  penetrating  deeper  into  the 
nature  of  things,  reflecting  on  this  confusion,  this  longing 
for  something  beyond,  I  am  resolved  to  show  my  people 
how  life  seems  to  me  who  look  at  it  with  eyes  that  know 
the  dykes,  and  know  the  far-off  seas ;  to  show  them  what 
seems  to  me  evil,  because  it  is  unnatural,  senseless,  out  of 
date  and  dead,  and  the  way  in  which  it  seems  to  me  good 
may  be  made  to  come  out  of  it.  I  should  like  to  write  a 
book  on  the  German  Renascence." 


238  HOLYLAND 

"Oh,  do  it,"  she  said  eagerly,  "it  will  give  you 
pleasure.  You  brood  too  much ;  speak  out  your  message, 
write  it,  unburden  your  full  heart  and  you  will  be  happy." 

The  brilliance  of  his  eyes  and  the  beauty  of  his  serious 
face  made  her  marvel.  His  spirits  had  soon  sunk  again. 

"  Yes,"  he  said,  "  but  if  they,  seeing  as  I  do  the  immense 
complexity  and  confusion  of  things,  and  not  knowing 
where  to  begin,  fail  to  find  the  root  of  the  evil,  then  the 
old  doubt  comes  back — what  is  the  use  of  undertaking 
such  a  monstrous  task  ?  Men  will  shrink  from  your  harsh 
judgments,  and  refuse  to  contemplate  such  drastic  refor- 
mation. Is  it  likely  that  you,  from  the  Hilligenlei  dyke, 
can  see  further  than  so  many  great  men  of  learning  and 
authority?  Leave  reform  to  them  ! 

"  The  idea  of  my  name  being  in  people's  mouths  terrifies 
me.  It  is  so  hard  to  lay  bare  one's  soul,  and  then  stand  by 
while  others  mock  at  it. ' ' 

Doubt  and  depression  overcame  him  once  more,  like  a 
man  who  knows  that  even  against  his  will  he  must  do 
something  which  is  bound  to  bring  suffering  upon  him. 

On  the  evening  of  Whitsunday  he  went  away  again. 
He  asked  her  to  look  in  upon  his  father  from  time  to  time 
and  greet  his  friends  from  him. 

"  We  seldom  see  or  hear  from  Pete,"  she  said,  "he  is 
absorbed  in  his  work,  and  has  no  time  for  us;  he  is  bent 
on  getting  on,  and  being  made  senior  inspector,  and 
thinks  of  nothing  else.  I  don't  know,"  she  continued 
thoughtfully,  "  whether  such  a  life  is  right  or  not,  whether 
one  gets  the  best  out  of  life  so. ' ' 

He  made  no  reply. 

On  the  way  to  the  station,  passing  by  the  Immenhof, 
they  saw  Tjark  Dusenschon  below,  making  his  leisurely 
way  to  his  shed.  "  He  doesn't  think  as  you  do,"  she 
went  on. 

He  answered  sadly,  "  And  yet  I  have  had  no  thoughts 
for  my  old  friends ;  hardly  even  for  my  mother,  always 
for  other  things. ' ' 

At  the  station  he  pressed  her  hand  hard.  "  Well, 
Heinke,  our  friendship  stands  fast.  If  you  are  ever  in  any 
trouble  send  for  me,  and  I  will  do  the  same.  Wish  me 
a  good  journey  and  a  good  year.  Perhaps  we  may  find  a 
piece  of  Hilligenlei,  Heinke.  I  hope  so." 

These  were  his  parting  words. 


CHAPTER   XXI 

THIS  same  Whitsun-eve,  as  Heinke  came  home,  and 
dreaming  still,  began  to  take  off  her  best  jacket  in  the  hall, 
she  heard  a  step  she  knew  in  the  gable  room.  Her  jacket 
still  half  on,  she  listened  in  bewilderment.  Then  the  door 
opened  above,  and  he  cried  gaily,"  Here  I  am." 

"  What  has  brought  you  back  so  soon?"  she  replied, 
quite  dumbfounded. 

"  I  have  quarrelled  with  the  old  people,"  he  said,  sitting 
on  the  top  of  the  stairs.  "  They  said  finally,  '  Get  off  to 
Hilligenlei  again. '  ' 

Her  jacket  still  half  on  she  stood  there,  and  detecting 
a  lie,  demanded  an  answer  on  "  his  word  of  honour." 

He  stuck  to  it  that  his  parents  had  turned  him  out. 
"  You  see,  I  was  melancholy  and  dullj  and  they  said,  '  We 
don't  want  such  a  visitor;  go  back  to  where  you  came 
from.'  So  I  managed  just  to  get  here  in  time  for  coffee." 

She  laughed.  ' '  You  are  talking  utter  nonsense  !  Be 
quiet  and  I  will  bring  the  coffee." 

She  took  off  her  jacket,  and  singing  softly — though  she 
had  no  idea  of  a  tune — got  the  coffee  ready  and  brought 
it  up  to  him.  And  as  she  sat  once  more  with  him  and  his 
pictures,  the  old  sense  of  happy  contentment  came  over  her 
once  more,  and  she  thought,  "  Kai  Jans  is  a  hero,  the  best 
of  men,  a  dear,  splendid  fellow,  but  he  is  cold  and  always 
in  such  deadly  earnest.  If  I  were  to  live  with  him  I 
should  get  afraid  and  long  to  be  released ;  I  should  never 
be  able  to  laugh,  I  should  always  be  thinking,  '  What  has 
he  got  in  his  head  now?  '  Our  children  would  make  me 
anxious  till  I  should  know  how  far  they  were  like  him.  .  .  . 
But  the  other  is  sweet  and  serious,  gay  and  thoughtful  all 
in  a  breath,  like  a  fresh  windy  day  in  spring ;  he  is  just 
right  for  a  grave  serious  person  like  me." 

She  began  to  laugh  and  tease  him ;  they  called  each 
other  by  Christian  names  again. 


24o  HOLYLAND 

"  If  you  don't  behave  better,"  she  said,  "you  will  be 
turned  out  here  too  !  " 

Then  they  arranged  to  take  a  walk  together  early  next 
morning,  the  first  day  of  Whitsuntide.  "  I  have  to  be 
back  by  ten,"  she  said,  "  to  cook  the  dinner." 

"  It  doesn't  matter  where  or  how  far  we  go;  we'll  stop 
wherever  we  see  a  nice  place,  and  be  home  by  ten." 

In  the  joy  of  planning,  he  took  hold  of  her  arm  as  usual, 
and  laid  his  hand  on  hers,  and  she,  rejoicing  in  the 
precious  marks  of  friendship,  turned  her  hand  over  so 
that  he  could  hold  it  properly,  and  said,  "  I  am  so  glad 
you  are  back,  Peterkin. " 

He  seized  her  hand  and  shook  it  quickly,  as  if  to  seal 
the  fair  friendship.  "  It  is  lovely  being  with  you." 

She  dropped  her  eyes.  ' '  You  are  so  good  to  me, ' '  she 
said,  taking  up  a  picture,  only  to  lay  it  down  again  imme- 
diately and  say,  without  looking  up,  "  I  must  spend  all 
the  evening  doing  things  in  the  house,  so  that  my  being 
away  in  the  morning  may  not  give  mother  anything  to  do. 
I  must  go  now." 

After  working  hard  she  went  to  bed,  where  she  lay 
awake,  her  thoughts  busy  with  Kai  Jans.  "  No,"  she 
thought,  "  fond  as  I  am  of  him,  I  do  not  want  him  for 
my  husband ;  he  is  too  serious,  too  restless,  too  strange 
altogether."  But  then,  when  she  thought  that  to-morrow 
the  other  would  perhaps  kiss  her,  and  it  would  be  all  over 
with  the  secret  hope  she  had  treasured  so  long,  that  Kai 
Jans  would  one  day  make  her  his  wife,  she  threw  herself 
on  her  side  and  wept  bitterly.  "  I  love  him  so.  I  love 
him  so  terribly."  For  an  hour  she  lay  in  misery,  weeping 
and  wrestling  with  her  thoughts.  The  other  was  dear 
and  splendid,  and  she  loved  him  very,  very  dearly;  but 
he  was  a  boy,  not  a  true  man.  She  thought  sTie  should 
never  find  happiness. 

Before  the  morning  grey  appeared  she  rose,  dressed 
rapidly,  and  went  softly  upstairs  to  wake  him.  As  she 
knocked  he  threw  open  the  door  and  said,  "  Wait  a 
minute,  dear.  I  am  just  ready."  It  did  not  seem  to 
trouble  him  in  the  least  that  he  was  in  his  shirt-sleeves. 
She  stayed  on  the  threshold,  watching  with  a  smile  how 
he,  ordinarily  so  calm  and  orderly  in  his  movements,  rushed 
restlessly  about  the  room  looking  for  one  thing  after 
another. 


HOLYLAND  241 

They  went  downstairs  softly,  not  to  wake  her  mother, 
and  so  out. 

It  was  still  quite  dark,  the  air  quite  still.  The  houses 
by  the  park  stood  there  silent,  asleep.  In  front  of  them 
the  tall  chestnuts,  clad  in  their  green  mantles,  bearing 
aloft  their  white  candles,  stood  still  to  let  the  two  young 
people  pass  by,  in  silence,  side  by  side,  their  eyes  on  the 
ground — the  man  stepping  out  calmly  as  if  to  meet  a  fair 
day  and  life  of  joyous  activity,  the  girl,  womanlike,  rather 
more  thoughtful.  Behind  them  came  the  first  breath  of 
morning,  stirring  in  the  chestnut  tops. 

When  they  had  left  the  town  behind  them  and  were 
walking  in  the  impenetrable  grey  shadow  of  the  thorn- 
edges  on  either  side  of  the  way,  he  took  her  hand  and 
swung  it  backwards  and  forwards,  whistling  as  he  went. 
When  that  became  monotonous  he  put  his  arm  through 
hers,  and  they  walked  so,  he  like  a  younger  brother  by  his 
sister's  side. 

' '  How  long  have  we  known  each  other  ?  ' '  said  he.  ' '  I 
feel  as  if  I  had  known  you  seven  years  at  least." 

"  Even  more,  I  think  !  " 

"  Look  !  let's  go  up  this  little  path.  It  doesn't  matter 
where  we  go,  does  it?  " 

"  Not  in  the  least." 

They  went  along  the  dark,  narrow  path  in  complete 
silence.  In  front  of  them  a  little  bird  began  to  sing. 
After  two  or  three  timid  notes  he  was  still  again. 

"  Heinke  !  "  he  said,  in  a  strangled  voice,  "  say  some- 
thing !" 

"What  shall  I  say?  " 

' '  Something  nice  !  I  have  said  so  many  nice  things 
to  you;  dear  Heinke,  do." 

"You're  ten  times  as  clever  as  I  am,  Peterkin.  You 
have  told  me  so  often.  If  you  know  anything,  say  it." 

"  There  is  something  I  want  to  say,  but  I  don't  know 
how  to  begin,  and  I  don't  know  whether  you  want  to  hear 
it." 

So  they  went  on  again,  side  by  side,  in  silence,  each 
full  of  restless,  fearful  longing.  From  the  heights  the 
morning  breeze  blew  fresh  towards  them.  At  the  summit, 
near  the  path,  there  lay  in  the  midst  of  the  dusky  meadow 
a  mighty  barrow. 

"  Look !  "  said  he.     "  From  that  barrow  we  could  look 


242  HOLYLAND 

east  and  see  the  whole  country  before  us.  Shall  we  go 
up  there  and  wait  for  the  sun  ?  Look  !  there  is  a  ray  of 
light  over  by  Volkmersdorf  already." 

"  I  had  rather  go  on  and  on  for  ever,"  said  she. 

"  No  !  "  said  he.  "  Let  us  go  up  and  wait  for  the  sun- 
rise— and  look  !  you  shall  see  him,  suddenly,  in  all  his 
glory — please,  let  me  bind  your  eyes." 

She  did  not  want  him  to,  and  snatched  the  handkerchief 
out  of  his  hand,  sorry  to  think  that  the  joy  of  their  being 
together  was  to  come  to  nothing  but  a  stupid  joke.  He 
was  only  afraid  of  her  keen  eyes.  He  implored  her  with 
such  a  serious  air  and  so  charmingly  that  she  had  to  give 
way,  and  he  bandaged  her  eyes  and  led  her  by  the  hand. 

"My  feet  are  getting  wet  through,"  she  said;  "the 
grass  is  so  long  and  wet." 

"  Oh  !  don't  think  of  that !  "  he  said  softly. 

"  What  a  curious  voice  you've  got,  Peterkin. " 

"  That's  no  trifle  !  "  said  he. 

"  What  is  no  trifle?" 

' '  You  should  see  what  I  see  !  We  have  come  too  early. 
This  field  still  belongs  to  the  dark  night." 

"  Oh,  my  feet  are  wet  through." 

"  Oh,  Heinke  Boje,"  said  he  softly,  "  don't  talk  of  your 
feet,  but  take  care  that  you  don't  let  your  soul  get  cold." 

"  What  a  curious  voice  you've  got,  Peterkin." 

' '  You  should  see  what  I  see  !  To  the  right  and  to  the 
left  of  the  old  pagan  barrow  there  stand  stout  men  in 
ancient  brown  tunics,  and  shoes  of  hide  on  their  feet." 

"  Go  on.  I  am  not  afraid.  They  are  my  ancestors. 
The  race  I  spring  from  has  lived  here  for  ages." 

"One  of  them  is  coming  near,"  he  said  softly,  " — a 
nice-looking  young  fellow.  Heinke,  do  you  know,  I  think 
— I  think  he  wants  to  kiss  you,  Heinke!  " 

She  stood  still  and  said,  breathing  hard,  "  Let  him,  if 
he  is  young  and  good-looking."  She  felt  a  hand  on  her 
hair  and  fresh  lips  on  her  mouth. 

"  We  ought  to  have  waited  till  it  was  daylight.  Heinke, 
I  reproach  myself  for  having  let  a  stranger  kiss  you  !  " 

They  went  on  in  silence.  When  they  reached  the  summit 
he  put  his  arm  round  her.  "  There's  another  coming  !  " 
he  said  softly.  "  Heinke,  what  am  I  to  do?  Am  I  to 
knock  him  down,  or  let  him  kiss  you?  " 

"  Is  he  well  made?  "  she  said,  laughing  softly. 


HOLYLAND  243 

"  Rather  slight,  but  strong  enough." 

"  Still  rather  boyish?  " 

"  Oh,  dear  no  !  a  proper  man  !  " 

"  What  kind  of  face  has  he?  still  rather  boyish?  " 

"  Oh,  dear  no  !  a  splendid,  manly  face  !  " 

' '  Then  he  may  kiss  me. ' '  Again  she  felt  the  quick,  shy 
lips  on  her  mouth. 

"Is  it  nice?  "  he  said  softly;  his  voice  seemed  choked. 

"  I  am  grieved,  Peterkin,"  she  said  in  a  low,  sorrowful 
tone,  "  that  you  allow  strangers  to  kiss  me." 

He  caught  her  in  his  arms  and,  pressing  his  head 
against  her  shoulders,  said,  "  Heinke  !  Heinke  !  I  love  you 
so!  " 

Then  she  took  off  the  bandage  from  her  eyes.  They  let 
each  other  go,  and  gazed  in  silence  over  the  meadows  to 
the  narrow  line  of  wood  in  the  distance  with  the  bank  of 
dark-blue  cloud  behind,  on  which  the  still  invisible  sun 
had  laid  down  his  weapons — his  long  shining  sword  and 
longer  spear.  They  lay  glistening  in  supernatural  splen- 
dour on  the  dark  blue  of  the  clouds,  and  as  the  sun  began 
to  rise  the  rim  of  his  golden  shield  appeared,  and  soon 
he  stood  above  the  wood  in  all  his  might,  light  blazing 
forth  from  him,  shining  orange  through  the  blue  mists 
up  to  the  arch  of  heaven,  and  beneath,  the  wide  land 
sleeping  in  holy  peace. 

They  stood  still,  looking  across,  then,  still  silent,  went 
back  to  the  path,  and,  leaving  the  heights  behind  them, 
came  down  to  a  wide  green  field  bathed  in  the  morning 
sunlight.  They  went  on  in  dreamy  silence,  avoiding 
each  other's  eyes,  he  gently  humming  to  himself,  till  after 
a  good  quarter  of  an  hour's  walking  they  reached  a  little 
mound  that  stood  up  in  the  midst  of  the  low,  green  plain. 

Hundreds  of  years  ago,  when  the  green  plain  had  been 
a  bit  of  sea-fen,  a  log  hut  belonging  to  the  lord  had  been 
built  by  this  mound,  as  a  terror  to  the  peasants  round. 
After  a  fierce  struggle  they  had  stormed  and  destroyed 
it  by  fire,  and  now  there  was  no  trace  of  the  fortress,  only 
the  soft  green  turf  and  the  young  oak-trees  standing 
round  the  mound,  while  fresh  spring  flowers  grew  in  the 
depression  at  one  side  that  marked  the  former  site. 

They  sat  down  on  the  grassy  slope  in  the  sunshine. 

Heinke  Boje  clasped  her  knee  with  her  hand  and  gazed, 
without  moving,  over  the  green  field  across  to  the  low 


244  HOLYLAND 

heights  from  which  they  had  come  and  the  square-built 
tower  of  Hilligenlei  just  visible  beyond.  Peter  Volquard- 
sen  plucked  all  the  flowers  within  his  reach  as  he  sat,  and 
threw  them  into  her  lap,  looking  questioningly  into  her 
face  each  time  he  did  so.  She  did  not  stir.  This  lasted 
some  time. 

Then,  thinking  that  the  silence  had  lasted  long  enough, 
she  took  up  one  of  the  blossoms,  as  if  still  lost  in  thought, 
and,  pressing  it  against  her  mouth,  looked  up  into  the 
expanse  of  sky  around  them  and  said,  "  Is  my  mouth  quite 
yellow?  " 

"  Quite  yellow  !  "  he  said. 

"  Does  it  matter?  "  said  she,  throwing  herself  down 
full  length  on  the  grass  and  shutting  her  eyes. 

Then  he  plucked  up  his  courage,  and,  creeping  up, 
kissed  her. 

At  first  she  thought,  "  I  will  stay  lying  here."  Then 
love  overcame  her,  and,  opening  her  eyes,  she  put  both 
hands  on  his  head  with  a  gesture  of  exquisite  tenderness. 

And  now  their  eyes  met  in  a  long  gaze. 

"  How  beautiful  you  are,"  he  said,  quite  shaken. 

"  I  cannot  look  at  you  enough,"  said  she. 

"  Lie  quite  still,  and  don't  say  anything." 

"  Dear  one  !  how  dear  you  are  !  " 

So  they  lay  for  a  long  time,  gazing  their  fill,  and  kissing 
from  time  to  time  with  a  shy  and  almost  solemn  rapture. 

Then  they  rose  and  went  home,  hand  in  hand,  dumb  for 
the  most  part,  but  now,  as  they  went,  they  looked  at  each 
other  silently,  and  held  each  other's  hands.  And  when 
they  returned  to  the  lane  he  took  her  in  his  arms  and 
kissed  her.  Her  cheeks  were  pink  and  her  dark-grey  eyes 
gleamed. 

"  You  are  a  man,  after  all,"  she  said,  laughing  happily. 
"  Don't  be  angry;  I  have  really  known  it  all  the  time." 

"Well,  now  you  must  let  me  go;  people  will  pass." 

They  decided  as  they  went  on  their  way  to  keep  their 
secret  until  autumn,  so  that  they  could  be  together  as 
before ;  they  would  only  confide  in  her  mother  and  his 
parents. 

When  they  reached  the  house  she  came  with  him  to  the 
stairs.  As  he  stood  on  the  step  she  gave  him  her  hand 
and  said  with  a  deep  seriousness  of  word  and  gesture, 
"  Do  you  love  me,  now?  " 


HOLYLAND  245 

He  replied  only  "Yes — dear!  "  but  in  his  eyes  there 
burned  such  true  love  that  she  turned  away,  overcome 
with  thrilling  happiness.  Their  hands  were  loth  to 
separate. 

Then  she  went  into  the  kitchen  and  thought  as  she  got 
ready  the  lunch,  "  If  I  had  only  told  her  as  I  came  in," 
and  hoped  that  her  mother  might  come  in.  It  was  so  nice 
and  dark  in  the  kitchen.  But  she  did  not.  "  He  is 
troubled,  too,"  she  thought;  "he  is  writing  to  his 
parents." 

At  last  she  had  to  go  in  and  lay  the  table.  Her  mother 
was  knitting  winter  stockings  for  Hett,  and  did  not  look 
up.  She  might  at  least  inquire  how  the  walk  had  gone 
off.  She  began  to  lay  the  table  more  noisily. 

Her  mother  looked  up.  "  What  are  you  doing,  child 
— you  are  laying  three  places  !  Who  is  coming?  " 

"Oh!  "  said  she,  "he  begged  so — he  wants  to  have 
lunch  with  us  to-day." 

"  Indeed  !     Have  you  got  something  special  for  him?  " 

"Oh!  he  won't  mind  about  that.  He — he  wants  to 
have  meals  with  me  always." 

"Child!  " 

"  Yes,  mother  !  We — he  said  to  me Mother,  why 

are  you  crying?  " 

"  Let  me  cry,  childie.     I  don't  know  why." 

"  We  shan't  'be  married  for  a  long  time — two  years,  at 
least.  I  want  it  so,  too." 

"  Do  his  parents  know?  " 

'  No,  they  don't  know,  but  they  suspect.  They  have 
nothing  against  it." 

"Is  it  all  right  for  him  to  stay  on  here,  then?  " 

"Till  autumn,  at  least.  And,  mother,  I  want  no  one 
to  know — not  even  Anna ;  and  I  want  you  to  let  me  go  up 
to  him  every  day,  as  I  have  done,  for  half  an  hour.  We 
are  sensible  people,  and  we  know  how  to  behave.  I  can't 
bear  it  otherwise." 

And  so  she  brought  him  up  his  coffee  as  of  old.  But 
now  it  was  a  different  matter — quite  a  different  matter. 
The  coffee  stood  untouched  and  the  pictures  unregarded. 
Each  found  the  other  more  beautiful  than  any  picture. 

He  sat  at  his  desk  and  bent  down  to  her  as  she  knelt 
before  him,  stroking  her  hair  and  kissing  her,  and  saying 
again  and  again  how  he  loved  her.  She  looked  up  to  him 


246  HOLYLAND 

with  her  clear  eyes  and  listened.  Then  he  lifted  her  up, 
and  she  sat  upon  his  knee,  and  as  she  sat  there  she  let 
him  feel  the  beauty  of  her  youthful  body,  and  gainsaid 
him  not,  only  saying  softly,  "  You  must  be  good." 

He  joyed  in  the  beauty  and  intelligence  of  the  woman 
he  had  won,  and  teased  her,  saying,  "  You  and  your 
sister — you  are  really  such  proud,  magnificent  girls ;  no 
one  dares  approach  you.  Even  the  mighty  Lau  trembled 
in  all  his  limbs  when  he  was  wooing  her — yes,  it's  true; 
he  told  me  himself.  But  I — playing  with  you  !  I,  a  mere 
boy  !  Peterkin,  you  are  a  boy  !  " 

She  threw  herself  on  him.  "  You're  no  boy.  You  are 
my  darling  husband." 

This  summer  she  troubled  about  nothing. 

Tjark  Dusenschon's  fortunes  seemed  at  their  zenith. 
He  purchased  the  piece  of  land  behind  the  sheds,  and  got 
estimates  submitted  to  him  for  the  cost  of  construction 
of  a  huge  factory.  Anna  complained  that  Pe  Ontjes  was 
being  more  and  more  drawn  into  the  sphere  of  Dusen- 
schon's activity,  as  he  maintained  that  he  knew  for  certain 
that  the  deepening  of  the  harbour  stream  would  be  under- 
taken in  three  years  at  latest.  Anna's  face  grew  dark  and 
silent. 

"  Pe  lets  himself  be  talked  over,"  she  said,  "  and  that  is 
bad  for  our  future  and  our  child's,  but  it's  worst  of  all  for 
me." 

"  How  do  you  mean?  " 

Anna  looked  straight  in  front  of  her  with  a  fixed  stare. 
' '  Because  I  cannot  respect  him  any  longer. ' ' 

Kai  Jans  wrote  from  Berlin  to  say  that  he  had  actually 
begun  to  work  on  his  book,  but  was  prevented  from  ob- 
taining any  wide  or  happy  outlook  by  all  the  individual 
misery  that  was  continually  forced  upon  his  notice.  He 
should  never  accomplish  anything.  He  did  not  know 
what  would  become  of  him.  At  times  he  felt  inclined  to 
go  with  his  friend  to  South  Africa.  Perhaps,  after  years 
of  travel  in  distant,  sunny  lands  he  might  return  com- 
posed and  mature. 

She  took  the  letter  up  into  the  gable  room  and  showed 
it  to  him  as  she  had  all  the  other  letters.  "  Poor,  dear 
man!  "  she  said,  her  eyes  filling  with  tears.  "  He  has 
always  been  so  good  to  me — since  I  was  quite  a  child. 


HOLYLAND  247 

I  owe  him  so  much.  And  now  he  has  no  joy  in  life,  and 
I  cannot  help  him  !  " 

"  Have  you  written  to  him  that  you  are  engaged?  " 

She  shook  her  head.  "  No  !  I  had  rather  tell  him.  I 
don't  know  how  he  will  take  it.  Before — yes,  since  I  was 
quite  a  child — I  have  often  secretly  thought  that  I  should 
be  his  wife  some  day.  Dear,  good  man  !  If  he  could 
only  find  someone  to  love,  that  might  help  him ;  but  oh  ! 
she  would  have  to  be  a  wonderful  person — clever  and 
beautiful  and  good." 

"  Don't  be  sad  about  it,  anyhow.  It  will  all  come  right 
in  the  end.  Come  here,  Heinke.  Be  good  to  me!1' 

In  July  Anna's  little  boy  was  not  very  well,  and  so 
Mrs.  Boje  spent  some  evenings  away,  sitting  by  the 
child's  bedside.  Then  the  two  had  their  meals  together 
in  the  gable  room.  They  sat  opposite  to  one  another  at 
a  square  table,  and  he  said,  "  My  wife,"  and  pretended 
there  was  a  child  sitting  at  each  side  of  the  table.  She 
laughed  and  scolded  him,  and  then  sat  again  on  his  knee 
and  let  him  do  as  he  would. 

One  such  evening  he  unfastened  her  hair  and  sat  for  a 
long  while  gazing  at  her  in  blissful  admiration.  Then, 
taking  hold  of  her  with  both  arms  and  with  earnest  impas- 
sioned eyes  and  a  constrained  voice,  said,  "  Heinke,  it  is 
not  right  for  us  two — to  wait  another  year  before  we 
marry. ' ' 

She  looked  at  him  with  troubled  eyes.  "  No,  Peter- 
kin;  I  think  so  too;  it  isn't  good." 

"  If  you  can  be  ever  so  careful,  and  don't  mind  living 
quietly  and  simply  with  me,  we  might  have  the  wedding 
at  the  New  Year." 

She  played  with  his  watch  chain,  her  eyes  cast  down. 
"  Oh  !  I  should  love  it !  Darling,  I  am  old  enough — I  am 
twenty-two.  It's  all  your  fault,  Peterkin.  I  was  such  a 
quiet,  simple  girl." 

And  so  they  agreed  to  have  the  wedding  at  the  begin- 
ning of  the  New  Year. 

They  became  more  calm,  talked  of  how  they  should 
manage  about  their  little  outfit,  and  agreed  on  the  names 
of  the  first  two  children. 

In  these  three  summer  months  Heinke  Boje  became  a 
woman,  and  forgot  Kai  Jans. 


CHAPTER  XXII 

ONE  day,  about  this  time,  Pe  Ontjes  came  to  his  wife 
as  she  was  dressing  her  child,  now  quite  well  again,  and 
said, 

"Do  you  know,  dear,  I  shall  have  to  take  shares  in 
Dusenschon's  new  building  scheme ;  it's  going  to  be  a  great 
affair." 

She  let  the  child  go  and  looked  at  him  in  amazement. 
"Oh,  Pe  Ontjes,"  she  said,  "don't.  I  am  ready  to  ap- 
prove of  everything  you  do  yourself,  however  dangerous 
it  seems  to  me,  but  don't  do  business  with  this  man!  " 

Her  obstinacy  began  to  annoy  Pe  Ontjes.  "  Our  busi- 
nesses are  very  closely  connected.  Our  customers  are 
the  same  people.  They  come  first  to  me  and  then  to  him. 
If  his  business  grows  mine  must  grow." 

She  shook  her  head  in  gloomy  determination.  "  If  you 
do  it,  it  is  all  over  with  us." 

"  With  us?  "  said  he.  "  How  do  you  mean?  With  our 
bread?  " 

"Yes,"  said  she;  "and " 

"  And  what?  "  said  he. 

She  pressed  her  lips  together,  and  her  sombre  thoughts 
clouded  her  eyes.  "It  is  over  with  my  belief  in  you. 
Dusenschon  is  a  bad  man." 

"You're  the  only  person  in  Hilligenlei  who  says  so." 

"  That  is  not  true.  Old  Thomas  Jans  does  not  trust 
him,  nor  does  Tor  Straten,  the  painter,  nor  Clausen,  the 
carpenter.  And  there  are  other  people  of  sense.  Even 
if  I  am  the  only  one,  I  am  sure  he  is  a  bad  man.  I  don't 
follow  the  crowd." 

"  All  you  Bojes  have  one  great  failing,"  said  he,  "  your 
hearts  are  cold." 

She  clasped  her  hands  and  cried  in  wretched  pain,  "  Pe  ! 
I — cold  !  to  strangers,  perhaps;  but  to  you  and  my  child? 
I — cold  !  "  She  caught  up  the  child  and  covered  it  with 
burning  kisses,  tears  starting  to  her  eyes. 


HOLYLAND  249 

He  went  into  his  writing-room.  After  a  while  she 
followed  him  and  said  in  a  restrained  voice,  "  Pe,  dear, 
you  are  a  lion  :  you  must  not  go  with  the  fox — that's  an 
old  proverb." 

He  was  no  longer  accessible  to  argument.  "  What  is 
the  risk?  We  can  separate  any  day  we  like." 

Her  scorn  blazed  up  anew.  "  I  cannot  have  you  in 
Dusenschon's  train,  and  that's  what  it  will  mean.  You're 
there  already." 

He  laughed  mockingly. 

"I  want  my  great,  strong  husband  to  be  strong  and 
independent,  or  else  I  am  ashamed.  I  have  been  ashamed 
for  a  long  time  now,  and  I  will  not  be  ashamed."  She 
stamped  with  her  foot,  and  cried  with  tears,  "  I  will  not 
be  ashamed.  I  cannot  live  if  I  am." 

"  Go  and  be  ashamed,  then,"  he  said  drily. 

Her  face  grew  deadly  pale,  and  she  said,  turning  away, 
"Oh!  is  this  Hilligenlei !  "  Turning  on  the  threshold 
she  said  with  a  kind  of  fearful  self-restraint,  "  On  the  day 
when  you  become  Dusenschon's  partner  I  shall  take  my 
child  to  mother's,  and  work  at  the  machine.  I  love  you 
beyond  all  reason  and  sanity,  and  therefore  I  will  have 
you  honour  me." 

She  was  gone.  Three  dark  weeks  came  and  went. 
They  exchanged  not  a  word.  She  spent  her  time  in  her 
bedroom,  sitting  for  hours  on  the  edge  of  her  bed  in 
anguish  of  mind.  He  spent  the  day  in  his  writing-room 
or  the  shed,  the  night  in  a  little  bed  in  the  attic, 
unable  to  sleep  because  of  his  uneasy  conscience,  which 
kept  him  brooding  over  the  idea  that  her  judgment  of 
Dusenschon  was  the  true  one,  but  that  now  he  could  not 
draw  back  for  fear  of  laying  himself  open  to  her  scorn. 
At  times  the  fear  that  he  had  started  on  a  false  and 
dangerous  road  made  him  groan  aloud.  At  times  he  felt 
a  passionate  longing  for  her.  "  Good  Heavens !  " 
he  thought,  "  how  glorious  she  looked  when  she  spoke 
of  friendship,  how  pathetic  when  she  wept."  In  tor- 
turing indecision  he  thought,  "  What  am  I  to  do?  I  can 
neither  do  one  thing  nor  the  other."  And  he  began  to 
be  cynical  and  suspicious  of  everyone.  His  peaceful  soul 
seemed  to  have  fallen  into  a  pit  of  disease  and  discontent. 

During  the  second  week  Tjark  Dusenschon  went  to 
Berlin,  taking  the  mayor  and  Suhlsen,  the  fat  alderman, 


25o  HOLYLAND 

to  see  the  cardboard  factory.  A  few  days  later  mayor 
and  alderman  returned  to  the  club,  their  faces  flushed 
with  wine,  and  described  the  imposing-  buildings  and 
flourishing  trade  they  had  seen.  Tjark  Dusenschon  had 
remained  in  Berlin  for  a  food  exhibition,  and  to  entertain 
a  company  of  soldiers  on  a  feast  of  his  own  manufactures, 
raw  ham  and  sausages. 

On  the  Friday,  Heine  Wulk  announced  in  the  news- 
paper, "According  to  a  dispatch  we  have  just  received, 
our  distinguished  fellow-citizen,  Mr.  Dusenschon,  has  re- 
ceived a  recognition  of  the  excellence  of  his  goods  in  the 
form  of  a  laurel  wreath.  Such  a  success  will  undoubtedly 
encourage  Mr.  Dusenschon  to  proceed  to  the  projected 
extension  of  his  business  here,  in  which  the  town  will 
not  be  slow  to  meet  him.  We  are  also  authorised  to  dis- 
close that  Mr.  Dusenschon  is  returning  to  Hilligenlei  by 
the  evening  train  on  Saturday." 

As  a  matter  of  fact,  Saturday  saw  Tjark  Dusenschon 's 
return.  The  mayor,  Alderman  Suhlsen,  and  some 
members  of  the  club  were  at  the  station.  Heine  Wulk 
and  Jeff  Buhmann  stood  in  the  background  regarding 
Tjark  Dusenschon,  with  the  laurel  wreath  on  his  arm, 
with  beaming  faces.  Outside,  as  he  went  down  the  steps, 
he  was  received  by  a  band  of  men  belonging  to  the 
Artisans'  Musical  Society,  collected  by  Birnbaum,  the 
publican,  who  greeted  him  with  "  Know'st  Thou  the 
Land."  They  had  decided  on  this  as  being  the  only 
song,  with  the  exception  of  "  See  the  Conquering  Hero," 
which  made  any  mention  of  laurel  wreaths.  A  weak 
"  Hurrah  !  "  came  from  some  hundred  people  standing 
in  the  shadow  of  the  trees.  The  folk  of  Hilligenlei  had 
had  little  experience  of  public  demonstrations.  Tjark 
Dusenschon  passed  through  their  midst  with  grave  and 
careworn  face,  and  they  said  to  one  another,  "  You  can 
see  he  has  something  to  think  about — now — that  is  no 
trifle." 

Pe  Ontjes'  bitterness  extended  to  Tjark  Dusenschon. 
The  laurel  wreath  seemed  to  him  ridiculous  under  any 
circumstances,  and  especially  for  a  sausage  manu- 
facturer. 

It  was  in  this  temper  that  he  was  standing  before  his 
door  on  Sunday  morning,  when  old  Suhlsen  came  lumber- 
ing along  and  stopped  to  give  a  long-winded  account  of 


HOLYLAND  251 

Dusenschon 's  journey.  To  cut  the  long  story  short,  Pe 
Ontjes  asked,  "  What  does  Heine  Wulk  mean  by  saying-, 
'  The  town  must  meet  Dusenschon  '?  " 

The  old,  beer-sodden  busybody  came  nearer,  and  ex- 
plained, "Although  Mr.  Dusenschon  possessed  enough 
capital  of  his  own  to  cover  the  cost  of  building  and  the 
installation  of  machinery,  it  would  take  a  year  and  a  day 
to  realise  that  capital  for  present  use.  The  magistracy 
was  therefore  going  to  propose  to  hand  over  ten  thousand 
pounds  from  the  Town  Savings  Bank,  and  retain  as 
equivalent  shares  of  equal  value  in  the  cardboard  factory. 
We,  the  mayor  and  I,  have  examined  the  factory,  and 
are  acquainted  with  its  position.  It  is  a  huge,  two- 
story  building  with  a  vast  chimney,  and  three  houses 
attached  in  which  the  hands  live.  Everything  is  in  the 
best  condition  and  full  working  order.  It  has  not  been 
entered  on  'Change,  but  its  soundness  is  guaranteed  by 
the  excellent  condition  of  the  factory  and  the  assurance 
of  a  recognised  Berlin  firm,  to  say  nothing  of  the  fact 
that  the  personality  of  Mr.  Dusenschon,  his  energy  and 
ability  are  of  immeasurable  value." 

The  last  sentence,  a  creation  of  the  mayor's,  had  been 
passed  round  the  club  and  rammed  down  the  throat  of 
every  stranger  for  the  last  three  months ;  but  its  brilliance 
could  not  illumine  the  darkness  of  Pe  Ontjes'  soul. 

'"  It  is  against  the  statutes  of  the  Savings  Bank,"  he 
said. 

"  Against  the  letter  of  the  law,"  said  Suhlsen.  "  But 
suppose  we  were  to  refuse,  Mr.  Lau?  what  then?  You 
know  that  the  Government  is  backing  up  Mr.  Dusenschon, 
and,  it  is  said,  a  certain  neighbourhood  has  made  him  a 
very  favourable  offer." 

The  old  man  went  on  his  way,  and  Pe  Ontjes,  turning 
back  into  the  office,  sat  down  on  the  edge  of  his  desk 
and  lost  himself  in  thought.  "  Yesterday  the  laurel 
wreath,  to-day  ten  thousand  pounds !  "  He  felt  the 
curious  sensation  of  suddenly  in  a  foreign  land  hearing 
the  sound  of  an  old  familiar  voice ;  and  as  he  listened—  • 
how  it  happened  he  did  not  know — but  he  was  going  to 
school  with  Tjark  Dusenschon.  There  was  a  clattering 
of  slippers,  the  sponge  that  hung  by  the  blackboard 
bobbed  up  and  down  as  they  passed,  the  school  door 
opened,  and  there  they  sat,  side  by  side,  in  rows,  with 


252  HOLYLAND 

Tjark  at  the  bottom  of  the  first  bench,  and  he  heard  Max 
Wieber  saying,  "  Tjark  Dusenschon 's  eyes  are  good,  and 
so  are  his  words;  but  what  he  does  is  always  a  surprise, 
and  not  a  pleasant  one." 

Then  they  were  sitting  in  the  half-dark  smithy,  Buh- 
mann  roaring  out  his  words  of  wisdom,  Scheinhold,  by 
the  bellows,  waiting  for  an  opportunity  of  putting  in  a 
word,  Kai  Jans,  with  eyes  like  saucers,  and  his  hands  on 
his  knees,  and  Tjark — his  eyes  and  words  were  all  laurel 
wreaths,  laurel  wreaths.  And  then,  yes!  then,  "You 
might  give  me  a  few  halfpence.  Grandmother  and  I  have 
nothing  to  eat  to-night."  And  next  would  come  a  sur- 
prise— an  unpleasant  one — the  appearance  of  Tjark  Dusen- 
schon in  some  new  blue  tie,  or  old,  red,  sixth  form  cap. 
Yes;  that's  how  it  had  been — all  the  time. 

Pe  Ontjes  was  still  sitting  there,  sunk  in  deep  reflec- 
tion, all  his  thoughts  busy  with  the  days  of  his  childhood, 
when  the  door  opened,  and  Tjark  Dusenschon  stood  there. 
Pe  looked  up,  his  thoughts  still  in  his  boyhood,  his  eyes 
still  those  he  had  had  as  a  boy.  "  You  rascal !  what  have 
you  done  with  the  money?  " 

Tjark  Dusenschon  saw  the  look,  and  understood  it. 
His  eyes  wandered.  "  What  do  you  mean?  " 

"That  company  business  is  no  good,"  said  Pe  Ontjes, 
striking  the  table  with  the  palm  of  his  hand. 

Dusenschon  went  out  with  some  indifferent  remark. 

The  big  man  of  the  Gude  Wife  sat  down  heavily  on  his 
chair  and  relapsed  into  his  brooding.  Childish  days  were 
vanished.  He  listened.  Now,  it  seemed,  another  sound 
must  come — the  clear  ring  of  a  soft,  woman's  voice. 
But  it  did  not  come.  The  door  of  the  living-room  opened, 
and  she  walked  along  the  passage  with  her  firm,  light 
step,  humming  to  herself. 

He  nodded.  "  So  !  she  sees  that  Dusenschon  has  gone 
off  double  quick,  and  now  she  is  singing  the  song  of 
victory,  imagining  that  she  is  much  cleverer  than  I  am, 
much  more  capable,  and  Heaven  knows  what !  One 
must  be  stronger  than  Anna  Boje,  or  there  is  no  existing 
with  her  at  all." 

She  rose  before  his  mind's  eye  in  all  the  glory  of  her 
beauty,  and  roused  such  a  transport  of  love  in  him  that 
he  groaned  aloud. 

Leaping   to  his   feet,   he  began  to  ponder   deeply — to 


HOLYLAND  253 

wonder  whether  he  were  a  complete  man — one  who  could 
stand  alone,  quite  alone — a  man  who  saw,  decided,  acted 
for  himself,  on  his  own  judgment.  Brooding-  profoundly, 
he  gradually  separated  himself  from  Hilligenlei  and  every- 
thing in  it — the  mayor,  the  club,  the  citizens — and,  stand- 
ing alone  on  the  dyke,  saw  the  old  town  with  Tjark 
Dusenschon  for  its  king,  and  sleepy  or  idle  men  for  its 
leaders,  and  for  the  first  time  he  felt  love  and  fear  for  it. 
"Hilligenlei!"  he  said  slowly  and  softly.  "If  Tjark 
Dusenschon  is  a  swindler,  and  brings  Hilligenlei  into  dis- 
repute before  the  country,  I  will  know  how  it  stands 
with  Dusenschon  !  I  will  know  to-day,  and  then — then, 
when  I  know — she  shall  do  penance  on  her  dear  knees, 
with  laughter  and  kisses." 

While  he  was  still  ordering  his  thoughts  in  the  light 
of  the  new  certainty  which  had  come  to  him,  old  Thomas 
Jans  came  along  in  his  grey,  mud-bespattered  working 
clothes,  his  spade  over  his  shoulder,  and  his  tin  canteen 
in  his  hand,  and  looked  in  at  the  window  with  his  deep- 
set  eyes. 

Pe  Ontjes  threw  up  the  window,  and  the  old  man  told  him 
he  had  received  a  letter  from  Kai,  with  which  he  was  not  at 
all  satisfied.  "  I  have  thought  a  great  deal  about  it,  and- — 
I  think  I  can  scrape  the  money  together.  I  am  going  to 
risk  the  journey  to  Berlin.  He  has  often  asked  me.  Tell 
me,  do  you  know  how  to  get  there  and  what  it  costs?  " 

"  I  will  tell  you  that  in  two  words,"  said  Pe.  "It's 
six  o'clock  now.  You  must  be  at  the  station  at  eight  sharp 
in  your  Sunday  clothes  with  your  blue  cap  and  your  pipe. 
I  will  go  with  you.  If  anyone  asks  you,  say  I  am  only 
going  as  far  as  Hamburg  with  you." 

"  Are  you  in  your  senses?  "  said  the  old  man  in  an 
injured  tone.  "  Dp  you  suppose  I  can  make  up  my  mind 
to  such  a  step  in  two  hours,  and  get  ready,  too?  It's 
impossible  before  to-morrow  midday." 

"  You  must  be  at  the  station  by  eight  sharp.  Now 
be  off." 

The  old  man  stamped  off,  shaking  his  head  as  he  went. 
A  little  further  on  he  fell  into  a  slow  trot.  Pe  Ontjes 
went  into  the  shed  and  arranged  some  matters  in  the 
office.  Then,  it  being  time  to  start,  he  went  upstairs, 
put  on  his  seaman's  clothes,  and  went  down  into  the 
sitting-room. 


254  HOLYLAND 

Anna  and  Heinke  were  sitting  there  with  the  child  at 
their  feet.  Anna  looked  up  at  him  curiously  with  eager, 
expectant  eyes.  He  pretended  not  to  see.  "  I  am  going 
to  Berlin  this  evening,"  he  said. 

"Oh!"  cried  Heinke,  "to  Berlin?  Do  go  and  see 
Kai.  I  have  had  such  a  depressed  letter  from  him.  The 
misery  he  sees  there  seems  to  be  breaking  his  heart." 

"  What  are  you  going  to  Berlin  for?  "  said  Anna. 
"  Has  it  to  do  with  Tjark  Dusenschon?  " 

' '  Say  that  I  have  only  gone  to  Hamburg.  Look  after 
the  house."  He  went  out. 

Anna  jumped  up  and  ran  after  him  just  as  he  was 
about  to  shut  the  front  door  behind  him.  With  shining 
eyes  she  stepped  up  to  him.  "  Haven't  you  a  single  word 
for  me?  " 

"No!"  He  looked  at  her  with  cold  scorn.  "Not 
one!  " 

She  turned  and  went  silently  back  into  the  room. 

Next  day,  at  midday,  they  slipped  out  of  the  train  in 
Berlin. 

The  passage  of  time  had  somewhat  shrivelled  up 
Thomas  Jans.  He  pushed  his  blue  Sunday  cap  well 
over  his  head,  his  keen  eyes  looking  out  under  the  brim. 
He  thanked  the  guard  for  their  good  journey,  and  then, 
puffing  hard  at  his  pipe,  trotted  behind  Pe  Ontjes.  After 
resting  for  a  space  at  their  hotel  they  walked  down 
Frederick  Street  together.  Then  Pe  Ontjes  wanted  to 
send  the  old  man  to  Well  Street  to  see  Kai,  but  he,  after 
a  thoughtful  glance  at  all  the  people  and  conveyances, 
and  the  tall  houses  around  him,  said,  "I  won't  risk  it; 
I  will  stay  with  you." 

So  they  went  down  Frederick  Street  together — Pe 
Ontjes'  tall  figure  in  front,  the  little  old  man  behind 
him,  stopping  every  now  and  then,  and  then  running  on 
again.  "  Life  is  rather  more  rapid  here  than  on  the 
lightship  in  the  Hilligenlei  bay,  but  my  wife's  idea  of 
Berlin  was  certainly  quite  wrong.  She  thought  it  was 
all  silks  and  satins,  but  I  see  shabbier  boots  and  stockings 
than  you  would  find  anywhere  in  Hilligenlei." 

At  Potsdam  Station  they  took  a  train  which  carried 
them  out  of  the  surge  of  humanity,  away  from  the  high 
walls,  through  a  barren  tract  of  open  country,  depositing 


HOLYLAND  255 

them,  after  an  hour's  journey,  near  a  little  village.  They 
went  up  to  the  station-master  and  asked  him  about  the 
cardboard  factory. 

"  Cardboard  factory?  "  said  he.  "  I  don't  know.  I 
haven't  been  here  very  long."  He  called  to  a  porter. 
"Oh,  yes,"  said  he,  "yes;  there,  behind  that  wood." 
He  said  more,  but,  being  from  the  eastern  provinces,  they 
could  not  understand  it. 

They  marched  ahead  through  the  greyish  sand.  Pe 
Ontjes  straining  his  eyes  for  the  chimney  and  a  big,  two- 
storied  building  with  rows  of  windows.  He  walked 
steadily  on,  the  old  man  puffing  at  his  pipe  comfortably 
as -he  followed  him,  his  eyes  taking  in  everything  around 
him.  They  reached  the  top  of  the  hill,  but  saw  nothing 
save  a  withered  wood  of  pines  and  fir-trees. 

"  I  must  sit  down  for  a  bit,"  said  the  old  man,  seating 
himself  on  a  kind  of  wall  that  ran  along  the  side  of  the 
road  to  re-light  his  pipe.  Pe  Ontjes  climbed  up  on  to 
the  wall,  and  stretched  out  his  neck  and  sniffed  the  air 
like  a  greyhound. 

"  Can  you  see  anything?  "  said  the  old  man  pleasantly. 

'  Don't  knock  over  the  wall,"  said  Pe  angrily.  The 
old  man  sat  smoking  like  a  small  furnace.  After  a  time 
he  asked  again,  "  Can  you  see  anything?  " 

Pe  Ontjes,  who  was  still  standing  on  the  wall,  suddenly 
gave  such  a  mighty  lurch  that  it  collapsed,  and  he  came 
down  with  it.  Looking  down  at  his  feet  in  amazement, 
he  saw  that  the  so-called  wall  was  a  mere  mass  of  lime 
and  broken  pieces  of  stone  put  together  anyhow. 
"  Hullo!  "  he  said. 

"Look  there!"  said  the  old  man,  tracing  out  the 
course  of  the  wall  with  his  pipe.  "  Look  !  it's  a  sort  ot 
square,  behind  the  pines,  do  you  see?  I  see  it  all 
now " 

"  Huh  !  "  said  Pe  Ontjes  scornfully. 

The  old  man  smoked  in  silence  for  a  time,  and  then 
went  on,  "I  tell  you  what — you  know,  if  a  workman 
who  has  lived  in  Hilligenlei  for  forty  years  wants  to 
borrow  five  pounds  for  the  education  of  his  child  or 
any  other  useful  purpose,  he  could  go  from  one  end  of  the 
place  to  the  other  without  getting  a  penny.  But  let  the 
first  rascally  windbag  come  along  and  say  he  has  half  a 
million  buried  in  the  sand  in  Berlin,  and  you  are  ready 


256  HOLYLAND 

to  give  him  Hilligenlei  itself,  and  its  honour  into  the 
bargain." 

Pe  Ontjes  stood  whistling,  rehearsing  in  his  mind  a 
series  of  conversations  with  Tjark  Dusenschon,  the  mayor, 
Anna  Boje,  and  Pe  Ontjes  Lau. 

"  How  long  are  we  going  to  sit  here?  " 

At  this  moment  Pe  saw  a  man  coming  through  the 
wood.  "  Was  there  ever  a  cardboard  factory  here,  my 
man?  "  he  said,  raising  his  voice. 

"  No!  "  said  the  man;  "but  there  is,  perhaps,  going 
to  be  one." 

"  Tell  me  !  "  Pe  went  on.  "  Do  you  know  Tjark  Dusen- 
schon? He's  got  a  figure  like  a  guard  and  a  head  like  a 
smooth,  round  turnip — which  he  resembles  in  other  re- 
spects. " 

"No!"  said  the  man,  in  some  surprise.  "1  have 
never  seen  such  a  man  in  my  life." 

They  returned  to  the  station,  and  there  sat  for  three 
hours  in  sun  and  wind  on  a  real  wall.  The  old  man 
smoked,  and  quoted  all  sorts  of  curious  parallels — the 
giant  Goliath  who  was  somewhat  slow  of  understanding ; 
Eli ;  and  Absolom,  who  hung  by  his  hair.  Pe  Ontjes 
listened,  and  sometimes  even  laughed,  thinking  of  the 
glorious  peace  he  would  make  with  Anna  Boje. 

It  was  late  in  the  afternoon  before  they  again  found 
themselves  in  the  midst  of  the  city,  and  Pe  Ontjes  stopped 
before  a  huge  building. 

"  Will  you  wait  here  a  few  minutes?  "  he  said  to  the 
old  man.  "  This  is  the  Board  of  Works.  I  just  want  to 
enquire  as  to  what  steps  are  being  taken  about  the  harbour 
channel,  and  things  in  general  in  Hilligenlei." 

He  was  led  into  a  room,  where,  to  his  considerable 
surprise,  he  found  a  friendly,  grey-haired  man  from  his 
own  district,  who  dismissed  him  finally  with  a  thoughtful 
nod  after  putting  all  sorts  of  questions. 

The  old  man  was  still  exactly  where  he  had  left  him,  his 
cold  pipe  held  tightly  in  his  hand  as  if  it  were,  among  so 
much  that  was  strange  and  new,  the  only  thing  he  knew, 
gazing  earnestly  at  the  stream  that  flowed  past  him  as  he 
stood  close  to  the  wall. 

Their  spirits  sank  as  they  left  Frederick  Street  and 
turned  off  into  the  dreary,  straight  streets  of  the  north- 
eastern quarter. 


HOLYLAND  257 

"  Just  look  I  "  said  the  old  man.  "  In  Hilligenlei,  when 
one  stands  on  the  dyke  one  can  see  land  and  sand  over 
the  sea  as  far  as  England,  and  the  vastness  of  the  sky 
above  is  almost  frightening.  But  here,  if  one  turns  round 
what  does  one  see?  A  man  who  lives  in  one  of  these 
great  quarries  must  have  a  dead  weight  on  his  heart  or 
an  iron  yoke  on  his  neck." 

On  turning  into  the  street  in  which  Kai  Jans  lodged 
they  found  crowds  of  men  standing  in  groups  of  various 
sizes  and  talking  eagerly  to  one  another  at  the  doors  of 
the  houses.  Undersized  young  men  were  streaming,  con- 
versing the  while,  into  the  public-houses  at  the  bottom 
of  the  street.  Here  and  there  women  leant  out  of  the 
windows,  and  pale-faced  children  standing  on  the  door- 
steps followed  the  conversation  of  their  elders  with  an 
unchildish  understanding  in  their  serious  eyes.  In  the 
distance  the  gleaming  helmets  of  the  police  were  visible. 

The  old  man  stopped  a  young  workman  who  was  walk- 
ing along  with  his  eyes  upon  the  ground  to  ask  him  why 
all  these  people  were  not  at  work,  but  the  man,  not  com- 
prehending the  dialect,  looked  up  at  Pe  Ontjes,  who  re- 
peated the  question.  He  then  related  in  his  peculiar 
German  that  he  and  the  others  were  boiler-makers,  and 
now  on  strike. 

"  Why  are  you  striking?  " 

"To  put  it  shortly,  because  the  master  won't  allow  us 
to  have  our  own  beliefs.  He  won't  have  us  admit  that 
we  belong  to  the  labour  party. ' ' 

The  old  man's  eyes  twinkled.  "  He  imagines,  then, 
that  his  word  will  keep  off  the  great  time  which  will  and 
must  come!"  Lifting  his  forefinger,  he  said  quaintly, 
"  The  living  garment  of  God  changes  !  " 

The  workman  smiled.     "  That's  Goethe  !  " 

"  Come  !  "  said  Pe  Ontjes,  "  let  us  get  on." 

They  found  the  number,  and  climbed  up  three  flights  of 
dark,  narrow,  dirty  steps. 

"  Have  we  got  to  climb  further?  "  said  the  old  man. 
"  Do  you  hear  that  noise  upstairs — all  those  voices?  " 

"There's  something  wrong!"  said  Pe  Ontjes,  still 
climbing  slowly  up.  On  the  landing  the  doors  stood  open 
right  and  left.  From  the  rooms  to  the  left  came  the 
sound  of  weeping  and  female  voices.  In  front  of  the 
opposite  door  there  stood  a  middle-aged  workman,  holding 


258  HOLY  LAND 

back  his  wife  with  one  arm,  saying,  "  Why  do  you 
want  to  see  such  a  miserable  sight?  You  won't  be  able 
to  sleep  for  three  nights  after  it." 

' '  What  has  happened  ?  ' '  said  Pe  Ontjes. 

' '  An  old  woman  lives  here  whose  son  was  a  bad  lot 
and  died  in  penal  servitude.  She  brought  up  his  two 
children,  her  grandsons,  who  are  now  about  fifteen  and 
seventeen.  Well,  the  old  grandmother,  a  very  good, 
honest  sort  of  woman,  saw  that  the  two  lads  were  going 
to  follow  in  their  father's  footsteps.  They  were  appren- 
ticed to  our  smithy.  Well,  the  last  few  days  they  have 
been  out  of  work.  They  got  drunk,  and  played  wicked 
pranks  with  a  little  girl,  and  then  went  and  boasted  of  it  to 
their  grandmother.  That  was  more  than  the  old  soul  could 
endure.  She  is  a  good,  honest  woman  from  the  country, 
where  such  things  don't  happen.  She  only  left  the 
country  eight  or  ten  years  ago.  Anyhow,  this  afternoon, 
when  the  two  lads  waked  up  from  their  debauch  and  asked 
for  coffee,  she  gave  them  a  good  dose  of  rat-poison  in  it. 
They're  both  lying  dead  now.  The  police  will  be  here 
directly. ' ' 

He  went  in  at  the  opposite  door,  and,  saying  to  the 
women  who  were  crowded  in  the  dark  little  passage, 
"  Make  way  !  "  led  them  into  the  room. 

There,  near  the  table,  on  the  floor  of  the  wretched 
room,  in  the  half-darkness,  lay  the  two  boys,  their  bodies, 
clad  in  miserable  rags,  convulsed  in  the  last  agony  of 
death,  their  faces  livid,  their  lips  still  flecked  with  foam. 
By  the  window  sat  the  old  grandmother,  her  thin  frame 
bent  by  toil  in  the  fields.  She  was  cleanly  dressed,  and 
as  she  smoothed  down  her  apron  with  her  emaciated 
hands  she  said  in  a  strangely  calm  and  monotonous  voice, 
like  that  of  a  clerk  reading  for  the  tenth  time  an  un- 
interesting protocol,  "Their  father  lived  to  be  forty,  and 
fifteen  of  those  years  he  spent  behind  iron  bars.  His 
evil  deeds  brought  misery  upon  seventy  people,  his  evil 
words  upon  seven  thousand.  They  would  have  done  the 
same.  Where  is  the  police?  I  am  a  God-fearing  old 
woman,  and  I  know  what  I  am  doing." 

Lifting  up  her  head,  she  saw  the  ten  or  twelve  people 
who  were  pressing  in  at  the  door,  and  said,  as  if 
to  herself,  "  I  am  not  afraid  of  anyone — except  Kai 
Jans." 


HOLYLAND  259 

Pe  Ontjes  Lau  turned  round  and  asked  the  man  behind 
him,  "  What  has  Jans  to  do  with  it?  " 

The  man  took  them  both  to  his  door,  and  said,  "  Some 
time  ago  a  certain  Kai  Jans  lived  for  two  years  with  us, 
and  for  the  last  year  he  has  lived  with  us  again.  In 
between  he  was  a  parson  in  his  home,  but  found  no  peace 
there.  He  is  the  sort  of  man,  don't  you  know,  for  whom 
every  day  is  Christmas  Eve ;  but  people  and  things  always 
spoil  it  for  him.  He  thought  there  ought  to  be  much  more 
happiness  in  the  world,  if  only  things  could  be  put  right. 
He  came  here  to  try  and  find  the  meaning  of  things. 
But  he  hasn't  been  able  to  find  it.  The  first  time  he  was 
here,  as  a  student,  he  used  to  sit  with  us  in  the  evenings, 
help  the  children  with  their  lessons,  and  argue  with  me 
about  religion  and  politics.  He  was  always  gay  and 
friendly.  Of  course,  he  was  only  a  boy  then,  and  his 
eyes  seemed  to  see  everything  for  the  first  time.  Since 
he  came  back  again  he  hardly  talks  at  all  himself,  but 
sits  there  asking  questions  and  brooding.  He  asks  the 
children  about  their  thoughts  and  plans — us  grown-ups 
about  our  faith  and  politics — the  old  people,  most  of 
whom  came  from  the  country,  how  the  landlords  treated 
them,  what  their  faith  was  then,  what  they  thought  of 
the  Church,  and  how  they  feel  now,  and  so  on. 

"  I  have  never  known  a  man  who  could  make  other 
people  talk  so,  and  say  so  little  himself.  Generally,  he 
is  melancholy  and  broods.  Sometimes,  when  he  is 
talking  with  the  children,  he  becomes  merry  for  a  moment, 
only  to  become  suddenly  serious  again. 

"  One  evening,  not  very  long  ago,  he  had  got  five  or  six 
children  in  his  room.  The  door  was  open.  He  told  them 
how  a  village  boy  wakes  up  before  sunrise  and  helps  his 
father  to  take  out  the  cart,  and  as  they  cross  the  heath 
they  see  the  sun  rising  behind  the  wood ;  and  they  pass 
through  villages,  and  then  through  a  little  town,  and  see 
one  thing  and  another,  returning  by  a  different  way.  The 
boy  then  goes  to  a  school  where  boys  and  girls,  big  and 
small,  sit  together,  and  in  the  afternoon  he  goes  down 
to  the  shore  with  his  companions.  They  see  distant  sails 
far  out  to  sea,  and  hunt  for  clams  and  molluscs.  In  the 
evening  they  sit  in  front  of  the  house-doors,  and  before 
they  go  to  bed  a  great  thunderstorm  rolls  by,  rumbling 
like  a  huge  waggon.  We  could  hear  him  telling  the 

s  2 


260  HOLYLAND 

children  all  this  from  the  kitchen,  and  at  the  end  he 
asked,  '  Well,  what  do  you  think?  Wasn't  that  a  lovely 
day?  '  The  children  laughed  and  said,  '  Do  you  suppose 
we  believe  what  you've  told  us?  It's  a  fairy  tale,  of 
course  !  '  He  left  his  room  and  came  to  us  in  the  kitchen 
in  despair,  saying,  '  Do  you  see,  your  children  call  the 
ordinary  life  of  a  village  child  a  fairy  tale — poor  little 
wretches  !  '  His  voice  went  right  through  us.  I  can  see 
him  saying  it  now.  .  .  .  Did  you  say  you  knew  him? 
Oh  !  "  the  man  cried  out  all  of  a  sudden.  "  I  can  see — 
mother  !  come  here;  this  is  Kai  Jans'  father  !  .  .  .  Come 
into  his  room,  please." 

On  the  way  he  said,  "  He  has  known  the  two  boys 
upstairs,  they  who  are  dead,  for  six  years,  and  he  said 
often  to  the  old  woman,  '  Don't  lose  heart,  grandmamma  ! 
The  boys  will  turn  out  all  right !  '  She  did  lose  heart,  and, 
I  think — she  was  right.  But  it  will  break  his  heart  when 
he  comes.  Here  !  this  is  his  room." 

He  led  them  past  his  weeping  wife  and  his  children, 
who  stood  shyly  by  the  kitchen  door,  into  the  room.  It 
was  a  clean  little  place,  looking  out  on  to  the  gloomy 
court  below.  They  looked  round,  and  then,  being 
fatigued,  were  about  to  sit  down  when  they  heard  several 
people  running  upstairs,  and  the  sound  of  dreadful  words 
rang  out.  Pe  Ontjes  ran  to  the  door. 

"  Kai  Jans  !  "  he  cried,  "  come  here  1  "  There  was  no 
reply. 

Going  upstairs,  they  found  him  at  the  door  crying, 
"Grandmamma!  what  have  you  done?  Oh!  dear  old 
grandmamma  !  now  you  are  a  murderess  !  " 

The  old  woman  sat  still  by  the  window,  stroking  her 
apron  with  the  same  composed  mien.  She  said  with 
perfect  calm, 

"It  is  done  now,  Kai  Jans.  This  is  a  much  surer  way 
than  your  endless  'Wait,  grandmamma,  it  will  come 
right !  '  They  would  have  been  perpetually  in  and  out  of 
trouble,  and  I  should  not  have  been  able  to  save  them. 
This  was  the  end." 

He  knelt  beside  the  children  and  stroked  their  hair. 
"  Men  are  to  blame — they  who  gave  no  land  to  your 
father  and  your  grandfather — else  you  might  have  been 
honest  farmers.  They  do  not  even  grant  you  a  place  to 
stand  in ;  they  lift  you,  four  stories  up  from  Mother  Earth, 


HOLYLAND  261 

and  there  they  leave  you.  And  the  man  who  does  not  live 
on  the  soil,  the  man  who  has  no  land,  is  utterly  lost."  He 
sobbed  aloud.  "  We  have  nothing,  nothing — no  unity, 
no  trust,  no  home,  no  faith,  no  love,  no  hope.  We  are 
shaken  this  way  and  that  like  corn  in  a  sieve.  What  is 
wrong  with  the  world  ?  I  cannot  find  my  way  in  it. " 

A  strong  hand  was  laid  on  his  shoulder.  "  Come  with 
us  !  "  said  Pe  Ontjes  in  a  loud  voice. 

Kai  Jans  stumbled  to  his  feet  as  if  called  by  an  angel 
of  the  Lord  and  reached  out  his  right  hand,  still  bent 
from  the  night  by  Cape  Horn.  "  Pe  Ontjes  !  "  he  cried; 
"  dear  Pe  Ontjes  !  Oh,  father,  is  that  you?  You  see—- 
you see  how  it  is  with  me. ' ' 

They  drew  him  out  into  the  passage.  There  a  little 
dark  man  came  up  to  him,  his  head  drooping  a  little  to 
one  side,  and  stepped  aside  with  him.  "  Excuse  me," 
he  said  in  a  friendly  manner.  "  I  am  a  relation  of  your 
friend " 

"Ah,  yes;  I  know  you,"  said  Kai,  pulling  himself 
together.  "  We  met  once  at  my  friend's  house.  I  re- 
member. We  talked  about  religion.  You  are  a  Catholic. " 

"  Yes,"  replied  the  other.  '•  I  am  to  inform  you  that 
he  expects  you  to  spend  several  years  with  him.  He  is 
starting  for  South  Africa  in  the  autumn."  He  briefly 
informed  him  of  the  object  and  duration  of  the  journey. 
Then,  with  a  certain  embarrassment,  he  went  on:  "I 
cannot  help  seeing  that  you  are  deeply  depressed.  May 
I  say  something?  I  assume  that  our  mutual  friend 
has  informed  you  that  I  come  of  an  orthodox  family. 
My  mother  comes  from  a  noble  family  of  orthodox  Pro- 
testants ;  my  father  was  an  orthodox  Catholic,  and  I 
have  followed  him." 

"  Yes,"  said  Kai,  "  what  do  you  want  to  say  to  me?  " 

"  Your  friend,  my  cousin,  has  often  talked  to  me  of 
you  and  your  brooding,  and  yesterday  he  showed  me  your 
last  letter.  So  when  he  commissioned  me  to  find  you 
here  I  conceived  a  burning  desire  to  say  to  you,  '  Cease 
your  brooding ;  let  it  be ;  it  will  never  bring  you  to  the 
goal.'/' 

Kai  Jans  listened  unwillingly. 

"  I  implore  you,"  said  the  stranger,  catching  hold  of 
Kai's  arm  with  a  movement  of  kindly  anxiety.  "  When 
I  was  a  young  man — I  am  now  fifty — I  suffered  from 


262  HOLYLAND 

doubts  and  brooding,  but  I  gave  it  up.  It  was  no  use. 
I  pushed  it  from  me  with  both  hands.  I  said  to  myself, 
'  I  won't  brood,  I  won't  inquire,  I  will  believe  the  belief 
and  teaching  of  Mother  Church. '  And, ' '  his  voice  softened 
and  trembled,  "  since  I  formed  that  resolution  I  have  had 
the  power  at  any  time  to  step  out  of  the  cruelty,  the  cold- 
ness, the  sinfulness  of  life  into  the  quiet  peace  of  the  holy 
sanctuary  of  the  grace  of  God  and  the  Saints." 

"  And  now?  "  said  Kai  Jans. 

"  I  implore  you  to  believe  that  I  have  no  desire  to  make 
you  a  Catholic.  My  mother  was  a  Protestant,  and  happy 
in  her  faith.  All  I  beg  of  you  is  to  nestle  in  the  faith  of 
your  Church  as  a  chicken  under  the  hen.  Believe  in  re- 
demption by  His  blood.  And  yet  the  bosom  of  my  Church 
is  the  most  sure  haven  of  peace  and  rest." 

Kai  Jans  shook  his  head  and  said  in  a  strangled  voice, 
' '  You  are  right.  There  is  no  difference  between  the 
Catholic  and  the  Protestant  dogmas.  Each  is  the  desert 
of  worn-out  doctrine.  To  accept  may  bring  happiness, 
but  it  is  the  happiness  of  a  king  who  has  given  away  his 
crown  and  feels  happy  in  his  night-cap,  or  of  a  soldier 
who  has  cast  away  his  cockade  and  feels  at  home  in  a 
marauding  band.  Speaking  for  myself,  I  do  not  want 
such  happiness.  I  will  look  into  the  eyes  of  the  Eter- 
nal Powers  and  all  their  terrors,  even  if  I  go  mad 
in  doing  it.  There  is  no  good  in  our  talking  to  one 
another. ' ' 

He  departed  sadly.  The  workman,  whom  they  had 
met  in  the  street  and  who  had  directed  them,  now  entered 
the  room,  and,  taking  hold  of  Kai  Jans,  said,  "  You  have 
seen  all  our  misery.  Now  go  and  revenge  the  dead,  and 
the  children  sitting  in  the  dark  courtyards  instead  of 
playing!  Who  was  that  pious  sneak?  Kai  Jans,  come 
and  join  us  !  " 

Kai  Jans  shook  his  head  despairingly.  "  How  gladly 
I  would  if  I  could  !  But  I  can't !  You  are  just  as  narrow 
and  unjust  as  all  the  other  parties.  No  man  can  serve 
a  party  and  keep  his  soul  free." 

The  young  workman  looked  at  him  angrily.  "  You 
can  do  nothing  without  a  party,  you  know  that." 

"  That  is  not  true,"  said  Kai  Jans  hotly.  "  Those  who 
have  effected  the  most  have  belonged  to  no  party.  Their 
sense  of  justice  prevented  it." 


HOLYLAND  263 

"If  you  join  us  you  would  have  ground  to  stand  on 
and  a  field  to  work  in,  and  your  father  would  rejoice." 

"  No,  no!  not  thus  will  I  win  my  ground,  my  field; 
that  were  no  Holyland.  I  cannot  accept  any  orthodoxy, 
either  political  or  religious.  I  cannot.  Don't  be  angry 
with  me." 

"  Come  !  "  said  Pe  Ontjes  stiffly.  "  Make  en  end  of 
this  and  come  with  us." 

"  Go,  then,"  said  the  workman  good-humouredly, 
giving  him  his  hand.  "One  cannot  do  what  the  heart 
does  not  desire.  But  do  not  forget  us."  He,  too,  de- 
parted. 

Kai  Jans  put  together  the  things  he  wanted  to  take 
with  him,  and,  after  paying  his  landlord,  followed  the 
other  two,  leaving  his  host  standing  sorrowfully  at  the 
door. 

Work  hours  were  over  when  they  left  the  north-east, 
and  the  streets  were  crowded  with  thousands  of  work- 
men, women,  children,  and  vehicles — an  army  that  now 
seemed  to  be  trying  to  get  back  into  its  ordered  ranks, 
and  now  wandered  this  way  and  that  without  aim  or 
purpose.  The  throng  was  held  in  and  cramped  by  the 
high,  steep  walls  that  rose  up  on  either  side.  Far  in  the 
distant  west  the  glow  of  evening  burned  in  the  wide  sky 
above.  Kai  Jans  said  sadly  when  he  saw  his  father  stop 
to  gaze  at  the  stream  of  human  life  before  him,  "  There 
are  not  a  hundred  men  in  all  these  thousands  who  know 
the  real  meaning  of  life.  Look  at  the  red  in  the  sky  ! 
How  far  we  are  from  God  and  Nature  !  how  far,  there- 
fore, from  happiness  !  " 

They  retraced  their  steps  down  to  the  station,  where 
they  had  some  refreshment  and  sat  in  deep  depression  of 
spirit.  When  they  came  out  again  it  was  night. 

Half  an  hour  later  they  were  speeding  through  the  night 
on  their  way  to  Hamburg.  The  old  man  sat  in  the  corner 
with  his  pipe,  as  if  crushed  by  some  mighty  power. 
Gradually  the  hand  which  held  the  pipe  dropped  on  his 
knee,  and  his  drowsy  head  sank  on  his  breast.  Pe  Ontjes 
lay  stretched  full  length  on  the  seat,  fighting  in  his  sleep 
against  Tjark  Dusenschon  and  the  Hilligenlei  authorities, 
without  minding,  in  the  stress  of  his  rage,  that  Anna 
looked  at  him  with  laughing  eyes  and  shook  his  body 
from  side  to  side. 


264  HOLYLAND 

Kai  Jans  sat  staring  in  front  of  him,  his  mind  painfully 
retracing-  the  events  of  the  last  few  weeks  and  the  shocks 
they  had  brought,  re-living  the  vain  broodings,  the  fruit- 
less search  that  had  occupied  his  soul  since  childhood, 
declaring  at  last, 

"All  is  over.  It  is  all  without  meaning  or  purpose. 
What  is  there  to  do?  Go  out  of  the  world,  or  drag 
on  this  dreary  tedium  of  existence?  Neither  the  one 
nor  the  other  was  possible.  What  then?  There  is 
a  third  alternative.  One  can  go  mad,  mad,  mad 
— yes,  go  mad  !  that  was  it !  Get  out  of  the  train  at 
Hamburg  and  tell  all  the  people  in  the  station  and  in  the 
streets,  '  Children  of  men,  why  do  you  run  about  in  this 
restless  way?  Why  are  your  faces  so  careworn?  Why 
are  your  children  so  pale  and  downcast?  Why  don't  they 
go  and  play  in  the  woods?  Why  do  the  young  toil  and 
moil  instead  of  wearing  flowers  in  their  hair?  Why  do 
you  live,  so  many  of  you,  in  hideous  darkness?  Why  do 
you  have  huge  prisons,  huge  asylums?  What  is  the 
matter?  Are  you  mad?  Don't  you  know  that  round 
Hamburg  there  is  a  whole  world  of  holiness  and  joy? 
Look  about  you  !  Open  your  eyes  !  Don't  you  see — all 
around  you  is  Holyland  ?  ' 

For  an  hour  his  mind  travelled  painfully  on  the  brink 
of  the  awful  abyss,  drunk  and  disordered  by  the  bitter 
draughts  of  misery,  till  merciful  nature  gave  him  the  relief 
of  deep  sleep. 

In  his  sleep  he  saw  a  vision  of  peace.  A  great 
bird,  white-winged,  as  large  as  a  heron,  came  flying 
towards  him  with  a  gentle  motion  of  his  vast  wings,  and 
said,  "  Seat  yourself  upon  me,  and  I  will  show  you  some- 
thing that  will  make  you  rejoice."  As  soon  as  he  had 
taken  his  seat  he  felt  a  sense  of  freedom  and  joyous  ex- 
pectancy. They  flew  over  land  and  sea  so  swiftly  that 
they  seemed  merely  to  traverse  meadows  and  ponds,  till 
they  came  to  a  high  range  of  wooded  mountains,  and 
there,  upon  the  summit,  they  halted.  Then  his  companion 
said  to  him,  "Do  you  see?  "  As  he  raised  his  eyes  he 
beheld  a  wide  and  wooded  land  swelling  gently  here 
and  there,  across  which  the  fresh  breeze  blew  like  the 
breath  of  God.  At  the  fringe  of  the  woods  were  big, 
sunny  houses,  standing  in  gardens,  in  which  people  were 
at  work,  tall  and  strong,  with  purity  shining  in  their 


HOLYLAND  265 

eyes  and  peaceful  thought  enshrined  upon  their 
brows.  And  as  he  looked  down  with  a  sense  of  ex- 
quisite contentment,  he  heard  a  voice  at  his  ear,  and,  turn- 
ing" round,  saw  the  eccentric  old  sailor  with  whom  he  had 
once,  sixteen  years  ago,  spent  three  days  on  shore  near 
Vancouver ;  and,  behold  !  this  was  the  land  he  had  seen 
then  !  "  Look  !  "  said  the  old  sailor,  "  it  is  given  to  you 
once  to  behold  the  Holyland  because  you  have  brooded 
over  it  so  passionately."  With  these  words  the  vision 
vanished. 

He  never  saw  it  again,  waking  or  dreaming,  but  for  the 
few -years  he  was  still  to  live  it  was  a  secret  source  of 
strength. 


CHAPTER    XXIII 

IT  was  evening — the  moon  had  just  risen — when  they 
arrived  at  Hilligenlei  Station.  Clausen,  the  contractor, 
Torstraten,  the  painter,  and  a  couple  of  healthy-minded 
young  tradesmen  who  had  held  aloof  from  the  society  of 
the  club,  came  up  to  Pe  Ontjes  and  asked  where  he  had 
been.  Like  Pe,  they  had  hitherto  troubled  their  heads 
very  little  about  the  town  and  its  management,  absorbed 
in  their  business  and  their  families ;  but  since  yesterday 
their  suspicions  had  been  aroused.  Pe  Ontjes  related 
what  he  had  seen. 

"  That's  it !  "  they  said.  "  He  suspected  that  you  were 
on  his  tracks,  and  got  hold  of  the  ten  thousand  yester- 
day !  " 

"Where  is  he?  "  said  Pe  Ontjes. 

"  He's  in  the  club,  if  he  hasn't  made  off  already." 

"I  am  going  to  the  club,"  said  Pe  Ontjes  quickly. 
"  You  look  for  him  elsewhere."  He  looked  up  and  down 
the  street.  "  We  must  get  more  people  to  look  for  him. 
Where  can  we  find  them?  " 

Some  people,  women  and  children  among  them,  ran  up 
the  street  towards  the  harbour.  "What  is  up?"  said 
Kai  Jans. 

"  Yes;  what  can  it  be?  "  said  the  others.  "  Before, 
we  saw  some  people  running  as  if  mad  down  to  the 
harbour." 

Nagel,  the  smith,  ran  past,  and  they  called  out  to 
him,  "Hallo!  master!  whither  away?" 

He  turned  round' as  he  ran,  and,  crying  "Don't  you 
know?  "  said  something  about  Dusenschon  which  they 
did  not  catch  and  ran  on.  At  his  heels  came  a  big  boy, 
shoes  in  hand,  who  tried  to  slip  past  them  in  his  stocking 
feet;  but  Pe  Ontjes  caught  him  by  the  scruff  of  his  neck 
and  said,  "  What  is  up,  boy?  " 

Wrenching  himself  free,   he  cried   out,    "  Dusenschon 


HOLYLAND  267 

has  had  the  treasure-ship  dug  up  from  the  sandbank — 
they  have  found  a  million  already  !  " 

44  Good  heavens!  "  cried  Pe  Ontjes.  "Do  you  hear 
that?  " 

Roaring  and  shouting  came  from  the  door  of  the  public- 
house.  The  names  "  mayor  "  and  "  Dusenschon  "  rang  out 
loudly;  hurrahs  resounded.  People  kept  darting  out  of 
the  little  gabled  houses,  house  doors  banged,  women 
shouted  and  ran  up  and  down.  Hagel,  the  lame  shoe- 
maker, came  past  on  his  chair  calling  out  "  A  million  !  " 
as  he  drove  on.  An  old  woman,  who  had  lost  all  her 
children,  came  out  of  her  home,  fastening  her  big,  blue- 
checked  apron  as  she  went.  ' '  Oh  !  if  only  my  children 
were  here  !  We  shall  all  be  rich  now  !  " 

At  the  end  of  the  harbour  street  they  found  Stiena 
Dusenschon  standing,  preening  and  pirouetting,  under 
Rieke  Thomson's  window,  smiling  to  herself.  She  was 
over  seventy  now.  <4  Have  you  heard?  "  she  cried  in  a 
loud  chant. 

"  Poor  mother!  "  said  Kai  Jans. 

Rieke  put  her  big  head  out  of  the  window  and,  recog- 
nising them,  said  scornfully,  "  Well,  Pe  Ontjes,  well,  Kai 
Jans,  do  you  believe  now  that  Tjark  Dusenschon  will  bring 
the  Holyland  to  pass?  I  have  always  said  he  would." 

"  You  have  always  been  right,"  said  Pe.  "  Where  is 
Tjark  Dusenschon?  We  have  another  laurel  wreath  for 
him." 

"  He's  mocking  at  us  !  "  cried  Rieke  in  shrill  excite- 
ment. "You  two  will  never  come  to  anything,  never." 

As  they  went  along  the  streets  and  through  the  market- 
place people  came  streaming  out  of  the  taverns  discussing 
with  drunken  voices  whether  they  should  go  to  the  sand- 
bank. Some  determined  to  go  to  the  club  and  salute 
Dusenschon. 

44  Come !  "  said  Pe  Ontjes. 

"  Oh,  let  me  go  home,"  said  Kai.  "  I  had  rather  not 
come  to  the  club.  I  have  looked  up  to  all  these  people 
since  I  was  a  child,  and  I  almost  do  still.  It's  horrible 
to  see  kings  dragged  into  the  mud." 

"They're  only  beer  and  card  kings.  It  will  do  you 
good,"  said  Pe  Ontjes.  4<  Come  !  " 

As  they  drew  near  the  club  they  could  already  hear  the 
loud  roar  of  voices.  They  went  in  and  opened  the  door 


268  HOLYLAND 

an'd  saw  the  fifteen  or  twenty  members  sitting  round 
the  table  amid  clouds  of  smoke,  with  a  big  glass  full  in 
front  of  them.  On  the  table  and  all  round  the  room  were 
all  sorts  of  childish  objects — cups,  albums,  stuffed  birds, 
cheap  painted  statuettes,  mixed  up  together  in  senseless 
confusion.  Their  effect  was  anything  but  beautiful.  In 
the  centre  of  the  long  table  there  was  a  huge  wooden  pig 
with  a  wreath  of  sausages  round  his  neck,  which  had  been 
subscribed  at  a  private  and  extraordinary  meeting  of  the 
club,  to  do  honour  to  the  club  and  to  Dusenschon.  Above 
Tjark  Dusenschon 's  chair  hung  the  laurel  wreath  which 
he  had  brought  from  Berlin.  He  himself  was  no  longer 
present.  Daniel  Peters,  still  an  elegant  figure,  in  spite 
of  his  sixty  years — a  mass  of  conceit  from  the  crown  of 
his  head  to  the  soles  of  his  feet — was  standing  on  a  chair, 
the  flow  of  his  oratory  interrupted  by  the  noise.  Doctor 
Winsing's  coarse  voice  rose  above  the  rest.  "  Come, 
mayor ;  you  might  just  as  well  confess  it  now ;  did  you 
and  Suhlsen  really  get  to  Berlin  at  all?  " 

"How  many  stories  has  the  factory,  eh,  Suhlsen?  " 

They  all  laughed  and  shouted,  "  Suhlsen  says  two,  and 
the  mayor  says  three  !  " 

' '  They  were  seen  in  Hamburg  on  Thursday  evening. 
When  did  they  go  to  Berlin,  in  that  case?  " 

"  Where  is  Dusenschon?  " 

Daniel  Peters  stroked  his  beautiful,  long  moustache. 
"  Gentlemen " 

"Goon!  " 

"  Since  we  knew  already  what  to  think  of  Herr  Dusen- 
schon, the  journey  to  Berlin  was  certainly  superfluous. 
Nevertheless,  I  and  my  respected  colleague  did  go  to 
Berlin,  in  our  supreme  devotion  to  duty,  and  did  see 
everything  in  all  its  details."  He  again  thoughtfully 
stroked  his  moustache  and  said  very  earnestly,  "  Gentle- 
men, I  am  well  aware  that  this  room  is  not  the  official 
centre  of  Hilligenlei ;  the  distinctions  it  confers  are  not 
the  official  distinctions,  which  will,  gentlemen,  be  con- 
ferred in  the  chambers  of  our  time-honoured  town  hall ; 
but  I  merely  state  a  universally  recognised  truth  when  I 
say  that  this  room  has  often  contained,  as  it  does  at  this 
moment,  the  best  intelligence  of  our  ancient  town.  That 
being  so,  the  distinctions  which  it  has  to  confer  are  not 
to  be  despised." 


HOLYLAND  269 

"  Good  !  go  on  !  " 

"  I  have  to  acquaint  you,  my  honoured  friends,  that 
the  Hilligenlei  Club,  founded  March  3Oth,  1848,  of  which 
I  have  at  this  moment  the  honour  to  be  president,  has 
unanimously  elected  as  an  honorary  member  Mr.  Dusen- 
schon,  owner  of  the  sausage  factory,  which,  be  it  said 
with  confidence,  will  be  the  most  important  in  Germany 
in  the  course  of  a  year.  I  say  again,  to  express  the  feel- 
ings of  the  meeting,  unanimously  elected." 

Thunders  of  applause  and  an  outburst  of  shouts  fol- 
lowed. "That  is  certainly  magnificent!"  "That  is 
certainly  an  honour  to  the  club  !  "  "  That  is  Hilligenlei 
all  over — not  a  single  carping  voice !  "  They  shook 
hands  all  round  with  every  expression  of  serious 
satisfaction. 

Lau,  the  corn  merchant,  had  certainly  chosen  an  inop- 
portune moment.  He  pressed  his  way  to  the  table,  through 
the  smoke  and  the  up-lifted  glasses,  crying, 

"Where's  Dusenschon  gone  with  the  money?  What 
has  he  done  with  the  money?  I  have  been  in  Berlin — it's 
all  a  swindle." 

They  did  not  understand.  The  magistrate,  who  dis- 
graced his  high  and  noble  office 'by  drinking  more  than 
he  ought  every  evening,  folded  his  hands  round  his  beaker 
and,  rising  to  his  feet,  said  with  no  expression  in  his 
bleared  eyes,  but  an  air  of  great  importance,  "  Mr.  Lau,  our 
statutes  do  not  permit  people  without  introduction.  ..." 

"  What  is  the  matter?     What  does  he  want?  " 

Pe  Ontjes  was  in  a  towering  rage. 

"  I  have  been  in  Berlin.  It  is  an  absolute  swindle.  Do 
you  understand  the  word  or  no?  There  is  no  cardboard 
factory.  It  is  all  a  cheat  and  a  swindle.  Do  you  under- 
sta'nd  that?  " 

Suhlsen  got  up  heavily  and  stared  at  Pe  Ontjes  with 
horror  in  his  eyes.  Then  suddenly  he  collapsed  into  his 
chair,  his  head  striking  against  the  table.  The  mayor's 
crimson  face  went  as  pale  as  death. 

"  Mayor,  you " 

There  was  a  great  outburst  of  shouting.  "What  is 
up  ?  Suhlsen !  Mayor !  You  were  there,  though. 
Speak,  man  !  though  you  go  to  hell  for  it.  Did  you  see 
the  factory  or  not?  Have  you  been  in  Berlin  or  not?  " 

"Only    to    Hamburg!"    said    Daniel    Peters,    turning 


270  HOLYLAND 

round  and  standing  in  an  agony  of  indecision,  his  eyes 
fixed  on  the  ground. 

The  young  men  who  had  met  Pe  Ontjes  at  the  station 
pressed  in  at  the  door,  followed  by  their  companions. 
After  them  came  the  host,  the  waiters,  people  from  the 
street.  One  of  them,  falling  on  the  mayor,  pushed  him 
back  and  shouted  in  his  ear  as  if  to  wake  him,  "  Where 
is  the  rascal  ?  We  are  shamed  before  the  country. ' ' 

Doctor  Winsing,  who  had  never  looked  at  a  medical 
book  since  his  examination,  and  made  up  for  his  total 
deficiency  in  either  intelligence  or  wit  by  a  plentiful 
supply  of  self-assurance,  cried  out  in  a  loud  voice,  "  We 
do  not  permit  the  use  of  such  language  concerning 
a  member  of  our  club,  as  long  as  the  case  is  not 
proved. ' ' 

"You  do  not  permit?  "  said  Pe  Ontjes.  "Who  are 
you?  We  have  been  used  to  look  up  to  you,  to  the  magis- 
trate, the  students,  the  parson,  who  is  here.  But  what 
are  you,  after  all?  "  He  did  not  know  how  to  express  his 
meaning. 

Kai  Jans  went  on  :  "  The  whole  town,  its  men,  women, 
and  children,  have  looked  up  to  you,  the  possessors  of 
the  dignity  of  office.  All  believed  you  really  were  some- 
thing. As  a  matter  of  fact,  you  draw  your  salaries  and 
perform  your  duties  without  intelligence  or  inspiration. 
You  ought  to  be  proud  and  open-eyed,  men  of  light  and 
leading  in  the  town ;  you  ought  to  make  a  pure  and  Holy- 
land  of  it — that  is  your  duty. ' ' 

Old  Suhlsen  was  carried  out.  One  artisan  after  another 
came  up  to  the  mayor  and  reproached  him,  till  the  land- 
lord led  him  away  into  the  next  room  and  closed  the  door 
behind  him.  For  a  long  time  he  sat  huddled  together  in 
the  corner,  looking  up  dully  when  anyone  came  near,  and 
saying,  "  Shave  off  my  beard;  shave  off  my  beard."  He 
seemed  to  feel  that  his  beard  must  go  with  his  ruined 
vanity. 

Pe  Ontjes  and  Kai  Jans  went  to  look  for  Tjark  Dusen- 
schon.  Kai  wanted  to  turn  aside  when  they  reached  the 
park.  "  Let  me  go  home,"  he  said.  "  I  have  seen 
enough  trouble  to-day  and  yesterday." 

"  You  are  to  come,"  said  Pe  angrily;  "  we  must  settle 
with  Tjark  DusenschOn. " 

"  I  want  to  see  no  more,"  said  Kai,  in  a  broken-spirited 


HOLYLAND  271 

voice.  "  I  have  seen  all  that  is  sad  and  hideous  in  the 
world  already.  Why  should  I  see  Tjark's  face  too?  " 

' '  Come  !  it  will  do  you  good  after  all  your  brooding1. ' ' 

Just  as  they  were  turning  into  Seiler  Street  a  little,  old- 
fashioned  cart  came  along,  and  they  saw  in  the  moonlight 
that  the  driver,  a  harsh-looking  peasant,  turned  to  look 
sharply  at  them  as  they  went  by.  They  had  gone  some 
way  down  the  street  when  Pe  Ontjes  said  suddenly,  "  Do 
you  know,  that  peasant  looked  to  me  suspicious.  Listen  ! 
Where  is  he  going?  " 

They  stood  still  to  listen,  and  heard  the  cart  rattle  down 
the  harbour  street. 

"Do  you  hear?  He's  driving  down  to  the  factory. 
Let's  see  where  he  stops." 

They  hurried  down  to  the  factory  and  found  it  lit  up  as 
usual,  work  proceeding  inside,  pigs  squealing.  They 
looked  round  them  in  astonishment.  The  cart  must  be 
somewhere.  Then  Kai  perceived  it  on  the  road  below 
the  dyke,  hidden  by  the  dark  wall  that  rose  behind  it. 
Going  up  to  it,  Pe  looked  up  sharply  and  said  in  a 
low  tone,  "  Whom  are  you  waiting  for,  Bahne  Voss  of 
Krautstiel?  " 

"  That's  nobody's  business  !  "  said  Bahne,  laughing. 

"  Stay  here,  and  don't  utter  a  sound,"  said  Pe  softly, 
"  or  you  will  feel  my  fist  on  your  jaw.  Kai,  go  to  the 
factory  and  see  if  he  is  there — you  may  drive  him  into 
my  arms." 

Kai  went  over  to  the  shed  and  through  all  the  half-dark 
rooms,  looking  for  the  office.  Then,  following  the  squeal- 
ing of  the  pigs,  he  found  himself  in  a  long  passage  that 
ran  down  to  the  styes,  and  there,  by  the  light  of  the 
moon,  he  could  see  a  hugely  tall  man  stumbling  awk- 
wardly, with  bent  back,  after  one  of  the  pigs.  He  recog- 
nised Jeff  Buhmann. 

"  What  are  you  doing  here?  "  he  said.  "  What  are  you 
doing  here?  Do  you  run  after  the  pig,  and  catch  hold  of 
its  tail,  and  live  in  the  shed?  " 

"  Hallo!  "  said  Jeff,  wiping  the  sweat  from  his  brow. 
"It's  you,  Kai!  " 

"Tell  me,  what  is  all  this?  Where  is  Tjark  Dusen- 
sch6n?" 

"  Oh  !  "  he  said,  breathless,  in  a  voice  of  keen  distress, 
"  I  don't  understand  it  at  all.  I  have  been  here  three 


272  HOLYLAND 

days,  and  I'm  about  done.  My  wife  thinks  that  I  am 
fishing  for  eels.  He  has  no  more  pigs  and  no  more 
money,  I  think,  and  he's  searching  for  gold  in  the  sand- 
bank with  his  men." 

"  There's  not  a  word  of  truth  In  it  all,"  said  Kai.  "  It's 
a  swindle. ' ' 

Jeff  sat  down  heavily.  "  All  a  swindle?  "  he  said.  "All 
a  swindle?  Where  is  he,  then?  " 

"We  don't  know — escaped,   I  expect." 

"  Kai,  he  is  a  wonderful  man  for  all  that — a  wonderful 
man.  Far,  far  superior  to  you  and  Pe  Ontjes.  So  it's 
all  a  swindle  !  My  compliments  to  you,  Kai !  " 

''  Only  tell  me  where  he  is  !  " 

"  An  hour  ago  he  was  in  the  office.  People  came  past 
shouting  about  the  sandbank  and  some  accident,  and  then 
he  disappeared  somewhere.  I  have  always  had  a  high 
opinion  of  him.  I  must  say  he  gave  me  more  satisfaction 
than  any  man  I  know." 

"  Come  with  me  to  Pe  Ontjes." 

Pe  Ontjes  stood  by  the  cart,  waiting  in  vain.  Some 
people  came  past  and,  recognising  his  voice,  shouted, 
"We've  got  him.  We  put  him  in  the  cart  and  brought 
him  to  the  town  hall,  and  took  the  money.  It's  in  the 
Savings  Bank  again.  We  let  him  go." 

"  What  sort  of  state  of  mind  was  he  in?  "  asked  Kai. 

"  Angry  enough,  as  one  might  expect,  otherwise  quite 
unmoved.  His  only  fear  seemed  to  be  of  punishment. 
I  expect  he  made  his  way  on  foot  to  the  nearest 
station." 

Pe  Ontjes,  Jeff,  and  Kai  Jans  made  their  way  to  the 
long  house.  "  I  must  say,"  said  Pe  Ontjes,  "  that  I  am 
disappointed  at  not  seeing  him." 

He  went  up  to  the  house,  and,  finding  Stiena  Dusen- 
schon's  door  open,  went  upstairs,  only  to  descend  again 
immediately,  declaring,  "The  house  is  empty." 

They  returned  to  the  street  discussing  where  he  could  be. 
Jeff  happened  to  look  across  to  the  smithy,  and  saw  that  the 
door,  which  was  split,  had  been  carefully  closed.  "  Good 
Heavens!"  he  whispered.  "I  know  where  he  is!" 
going  up  to  the  door. 

There,  in  the  moonlight  pouring  in  through  the  western 
window,  there  sat,  on  the  old,  broken-down  carriage  that 
had  once  been  Kissen's,  and  for  which  they  had  once  made 


HOLY  LAND  273 

a  lottery,  there  sat  Tjark  Dusenschfin  with  Stiena,  his  old 
grandmother,  by  his  side.  Opposite  them,  on  an  over- 
turned barrow,  the  mayor,  Daniel  Peters.  Tjark  was 
holding  forth,  his  clear  eyes  shining. 

Kai  Jans  addressed  him  in  passionate  words:  "What 
are  you  going  to  do  now?  Tell  me  what  you  think  about ! 
In  what  a  wretched  state  you  must  go  out  into  the 
world  !  " 

"  Wretched  !  "  said  Tjark  in  astonishment,  taking  hold 
of  his  imposing  pocket-flaps  with  both  hands.  "You  are 
really  too  stupid." 

"  Hit  him  in  the  face,"  said  Pe  Ontjes. 

"  That  is  madness,  Pe  Ontjes,"  said  Jeff,  seating 
himself  on  the  anvil.  "  He  cannot  help  it.  His  mis- 
fortune is  that  he  confuses  gross  and  net,  and  he  did  that 
as  a  boy." 

"  Do  not  forget,"  said  Tjark  Dusenschon,  with  calm 
indifference,  "  that  I  am  an  honorary  member  of  the 
club," 

"What  does  life  mean  to  you?"  asked  Kai,  greatly 
troubled.  "What  are  your  thoughts?  What  is  your 
purpose  in  the  world?  " 

"What  do  you  mean?"  said  Tjark.  "Don't  be 
offended,  Kai,  but  you  are  a  fool.  It  is  clear  that  one 
must  take  money  when  one  can  get  it. ' ' 

Afraid  that  the  man  would  impose  upon  him  again,  Pe 
Ontjes  said,  "  Come,  Kai;  let  us  go." 

"What  are  you,  though?"  insisted  Kai  eagerly. 
"  What  is  your  motive?  What  is  your  purpose  in  life? 
Tell  me,  Tjark — you  have  some  serious  aim  !  " 

Tjark  looked  at  him  with  a  gentle  smiling,  shaking  his 
head.  "  Poor  fellow,"  he  said.  "  You  are  really  troubled 
about  me.  What  do  I  know  of  myself?  Things  amuse 
me."  He  listened.  "It  is  quiet  outside  now.  I  must 
go.  I  didn't  want  to  fall  into  the  clutches  of  that 
gang." 

When  they  came  out  again  into  the  clear  moon- 
light Kai  said  in  a  tone  of  unutterable  weariness, 
"  Let  me  go  now,  Pe  Ontjes.  I  have  seen  misery 
enough." 

"  No!  "  said  Pe  shortly.  "  You  must  come  with  me. 
We  must  see  how  the  town  takes  it.  We  must  fight  this 
thing  through,  Kai.  Truth  and  Reality  are  our  watch- 

T 


274  HOLYLAND 

words,    and    we    must    face    whatever    comes,    however 
awful. ' ' 

Returning  to  the  park,  they  were  met  by  crowds  return- 
ing from  the  sandbank,  raging,  shouting,  and  laughing 
at  the  way  in  which  they  had  been  swindled  there.  Wild 
shouts  rang,  and  people  hurried  to  and  fro  on  every  side. 
From  every  house  and  street  there  was  a  ringing  of  bells. 
Pe  Ontjes  laughed. 

"  Don't  laugh,"  said  Kai  Jans.  "Is  it  a  time  for 
laughing  when  your  native  town  is  sunk  to  such  depths 
of  degradation?  " 

"  What  does  Hilligenlei  matter  to  me?  "  asked  Pe 
Ontjes  wildly.  "  Nothing  matters  except  wife  and  chil- 
dren." 

"Don't  say  that!"  said  Kai.  "Don't  say  that! 
They  are  our  brothers  and  sisters.  If  we  did  not  think 
that,  we  should  fight  like  wild  beasts." 

"  Brothers  and  sisters,  indeed  !  " 

A  man  came  towards  them  in  the  moonlight  from  the 
chestnut  avenue,  in  whom  he  recognised  Pete  Boje — 
come  over  from  Hamburg  to  spend  the  half-day  with  his 
mother.  He  had  taken  Heinke  to  stay  with  Anna,  that 
she  might  not  be  alone  on  such  a  tumultuous  night,  and 
was  now  on  his  way  to  the  station  to  catch  the  night 
train  back  to  Hamburg.  He  knew  all  that  had  happened, 
and  said,  "  In  the  future  one  will  hardly  dare  to  say  that 
one  comes  from  Hilligenlei,"  then  walked  by  their  side 
in  silence  to  the  station. 

"If  that  were  all!"  said  Kai  Jans,  "but  just  look 
at  all  these  people !  ' ' 

Some  hundred  or  two  hundred  men  were  running  to  the 
station  from  all  directions.  One  could  hear  the  tread  of 
many  feet  and  the  sound  of  hideous  oaths,  mixed  with 
coarse,  drunken  laughter. 

"Listen  to  their  laughter!  "  said  Kai.  "They  don't 
know  that  they  are  so  many  madmen  !  " 

Pete  Boje  shrugged  his  shoulders  and  said  with  an  air 
of  cold  indifference,  "  We  are  all  that,  Kai.  How  should 
we  be  anything  else?  " 

1 '  But  surely  you  have  always  been  happy — always 
known  what  you  wanted,"  said  Kai. 

Pete  gave  a  quick  laugh.  "Yes!  I  was  young  and 
fresh.  I  found  joy  in  climbing  upwards.  But  since  I 


HOLYLAND  275 

have  got  to  the  top- The  endless  rush  in  our  yard, 

day  in,  day  out;  trying  an  improvement  to-day,  only  to 
throw  it  aside  to-morrow  for  a  better;  getting  through 
more  business  than  other  firms  and  other  nations ;  the 
workmen  dissatisfied;  some  people  always  tale-bearing, 
others  struggling  to  get  on — and  so  every  day  and  all  day. 
The  whole  thing  is  so  aimless." 

They  had  got  nearly  to  the  station.  Huge  crowds  of 
men  stood  collected  in  the  shadow  of  the  coalsheds,  wait- 
ing silently  to  attack  Tjark  Dusenschon  or  the  mayor 
on  their  way  to  the  station. 

"  Do  you  know,  though,"  said  Pete,  "there  are  some 
people  who  are  happy. ' ' 

"  Where?  n  said  Kai,  turning  round  upon  him  swiftly. 

"  People  with  a  fixed  idea.  You  must  become  a  man 
with  a  fixed  idea,  and  then  you  will  be  happy.  In  the 
asylums  you  will  find  men  who  are  happy — men  with 
happy,  fixed  ideas,  and  the  members  of  peculiar  sects  !  I 
have  seen  it  in  our  works  and  in  London.  For  example, 
the  Salvation  Army  people  are  happy.  That's  it !  Just 
find  a  fixed  idea,  and  you  will  be  happy." 

"  Yes  !  "  said  Kai,  his  eyes  burning.  "  Yes,  you  are 
right.  We  are  not  very  far  from  the  time  when  men 
were  like  dumb  animals.  We  don't  live  by  reason  now 
— only  by  fancies  and  fixed  ideas.  Oh,  Pete,  how  I  wish 
I  had  such  a  fixed  idea — one  that  would  apply  to  all 
mankind — a  big,  glorious  idea — that  would  bring  us 
nearer  to  light  and  knowledge. ' ' 

"Good  night!"  said  Pete  Boje  with  a  laugh.  He 
shook  hands  and  left  them. 

"  Look  !  look  !  "  said  Pe  Ontjes.  A  crowd  of  drunken 
citizens  had  brought  the  wooden  pig  from  the  club  table 
and  fastened  it  to  a  pole,  and  were  now  carrying  it,  with 
loud  groans,  through  the  peaceful  silence  of  the  lovely 
moonshine.  Some  were  men  with  grey  heads,  some  were 
members  of  the  club.  The  people  who  had  been  standing 
in  the  shadow  of  the  sheds  now  came  forward,  one  by 
one,  and  joined  them.  The  great,  noisy  crowd  filled  the 
square. 

"Look!"  said  Pe  Ontjes,  waving  his  hand  towards 
them.  "There  is  your  Hilligenlei.  That's  what  its 
people  are  like.  That's  what  humanity  is  like.  There 
it  is!" 


276  HOLYLAND 

"Dear  Pe  Ontjes,"  said  Kai  in  a  strange  voice,  and 
catching  hold  of  his  arm  as  if  to  prevent  himself  from 
falling,  "  you  are  a  simple  fellow,  but  from  your  childhood 
— you  have  had  a  firm  hold  on  life " 

"  Boy  !  "  said  Lau  in  some  embarrassment.  "  I — a 
firm  hold?  I  tell  you  Anna  Boje  and  I  are  driven  back 
and  forwards  by  love  and  anger.  Like  everyone  else,  we 
are  without  rudder  or  compass  to  guide  us." 

Kai  Jans  let  fall  his  arm,  and  said  in  a  spiritless  voice 
that  betrayed  the  sick  horror  of  his  sou\,  "  No  one  knows 
anything.  There  is  no  Holyland,  no  God.  All,  all  is 
confusion  !  ' ' 


CHAPTER    XXIV 

NEXT  morning  Pe  Ontjes  went  and  told  Heinke  of  Kai 
Jans'  arrival,  and  said,  promising  her  an  antique,  gold 
ornament  belonging  .o  his  mother,  ' '  You  are  a  pretty 
girl  and  a  clever  one,  and  his  friend.  I'm  not  clever 
enough  for  him,  and  Anna  is  so  readily  unjust.  You  go 
and  comfort  him." 

She  thought,  "  How  fortunate  it  should  just  happen 
that  the  other  has  a  month's  holiday,  and  is  over  the  hills 
and  far  away.  I  can  give  myself  up  to  the  poor,  dear 
man.  Consolation  comes  easily  to  me,  for  I  am  so  happy. 
Oh,  dear,  dear  Peterkin  1  " 

So  she  went  to  Mrs.  Lau  and  obtained  immediate  posses- 
sion of  the  ornament,  picked  a  red  carnation  in  the  garden 
and  put  it  in  her  belt,  and  then  made  her  way  to  the  long 
house. 

He  was  sitting  at  the  round  table  at  which  all  the  Jans 
children  had  been  christened,  eaten  their  meals,  and  done 
their  lessons,  gazing  in  a  brown  study  out  across  the  sea. 

"  Let  us  go  upon  the  dyke,"  she  said.  He  got  up  and 
shook  her  by  the  hand.  "  I  am  a  poor  companion  for  you, 
child!  " 

"  Sh  !  "  she  said.  "  Pe  Ontjes  has  told  me  all  about  it. 
Come!  " 

On  top  of  the  long  pier  that  ran  right  out  to  sea  she 
slipped  her  arm  through  his  with  a  movement  of  confiding 
affection  and  walked  so  by  his  side.  The  west  wind  blew 
in  their  faces,  blowing  back  her  dress.  The  sun  shone 
on  the  left. 

"  Do  you  remember,  when  you  were  in  the  top  form  you 
told  me  once  that  your  ancestors  came  from  the  Mar- 
comanni?  First  they  dwelt  up  there  on  the  windy  hill- 
tops, and  then  came  down  into  the  fens  and  became 
farmers." 

"  They  ended  by  being  workmen  in   Hilligenlei.     The 


278  HOLYLAND 

last  of   the  line   was   a   good-for-nothing   dreamer   with 
neither  land,  nor  rights,  nor  position  in  his  home." 

Dropping  his  arm,  she  pulled  off  her  jacket,  with  her 
sparkling  eyes  on  him. 

'  You  have  no  place  in  your  home?  Is  there  anything 
more  beautiful  in  your  home  than  a  beautiful  girl?  You 
have  a  place  here  I  Do  you  think  it  is  easy  to  live  in  this 
place  and  be  of  it?  Would  you  be  any  better  if  the  old 
farmers  bowed  before  you,  and  the  tower  of  Hilligenlei 
saluted  you?  " 

He  looked  at  her,  amazement  in  his  eyes.  "  How  you 
have  changed  ! — you  have  become  so  sweet  and  gentle  !  ' ' 

"  Ah  !  Peterkin  !  ' '  thought  she. 

The  sun  shone  and  the  wind  blew.  They  walked  out 
into  the  glittering  grey  sea,  and  she  pressed  his  arm 
tenderly  against  her  yielding  side. 

41  I  have  put  on  my  best  frock  !  do  you  see  that?  I  have, 
you  see,  my  flower  and  my  ornament — all  to  give  you 
pleasure." 

He  looked  at  her  again,  wonderingly.  44  Your  mouth 
used  to  be  a  shade  too  small,"  he  said,  <4but  now  it  has 
grown  strong  and  wide.  And  your  eyes  are  darker  and 
softer  than  they  were.  They  used  to  be  like  two  fair- 
haired  girls  of  ten  years  old  playing  ball  in  the  wind ; 
but  now  there  is  a  young  mother  playing  with  her 
child." 

"  Peterkin 's  love  has  done  that,"  she  thought.  "  Sit 
still,  my  soul." 

44  What  are  you  saying?  "  she  said  aloud,  4<  I  am  twenty- 
two  now,  that's  what  it  is." 

44  Do  you  know,"  he  said,  smiling  bitterly  at  himself, 
4<  when  I  was  a  young  student  and  you  were  still  a  child 
there  was  a  time  when  I  cherished  the  secret  hope  that 
you  would  one  day  be  my  wife.  Thank  Heaven  I  let 
that  dream  go;  thank  Heaven  we  are  friends,  and  no 
more.  What  a  long  engagement  that  would  have  been  ! 
What  a  gloomy  bridegroom !  Finally,  he  would  have 
said,  4  I  am  sorry,  Heinke  Boje,  but  I  have  no  bread, 
and  no  thoughts  for  you. ' ' 

44  Don't  be  sad,"  she  said. 

44  Over  thirty,"  he  said,  4<  and  still  I  don't  know  whether 
there  is  a  place  where  I  can  be  of  use  in  the  world.  God 
takes  the  others  by  the  hand  and  leads  them  to  some 


HOLYLAND 


279 


field  or  other,  be  it  ever  so  small,  saying,  '  Build  thy 
house  there,  plant  thy  garden  there.'  But  He  holds  me 
for  a  fool.  For  me  He  has  no  field.  He  condemns  me 
to  be  a  huntsman — a  lost  huntsman  who  seeks  through 
brush  and  briar  and  fen  a  splendid,  fabulous  beast." 

Her  spirits  sank,  and  she  turned  round  in  silence,  think- 
ing, ' '  I  have  played  badly  to-day. ' ' 

When  they  reached  the  rushing  sluice  she  gave  him  her 
hand  and  said  with  trembling  lips,  "  You  are  more  to  me 
than  my  mother,  my  brothers,  and  my  sister.  I  could 
not  be  glad  if  you  were  not  happy,  whatever  fortune  came 
to  me.  I  shall  come  again  to-morrow,  and  go  on  coming, 
until  you  laugh  again."  Her  eyes  suddenly  filled  with 
tears.  She  turned  and  went  away. 

The  next  day  she  returned  in  the  same  blue  dress  and 
with  the  red  carnation,  and  again  walked  along  the  dyke 
with  him  out  to  sea.  The  sea  lay  beneath  them  clad  in 
her  grey-green  garment,  a  band  of  light  across  her  breast. 
Field  after  field  extended,  covered  with  dark-green  grass 
and  bright  cornfields,  and  beyond,  in  the  distance,  shady 
farms  and  villages.  Inland  the  land  rose  gently,  its 
hillocks  covered  with  meadows,  woods,  and  villages. 

"  Look  I  "  she  said,  looking  round  her.  "  How  beau- 
tiful your  home  is.  Can  you  find  no  joy  in  being  a  child 
of  this  land,  where,  for  hundreds  of  years,  so  many  brave 
deeds  have  been  done?  You  have  youth  and  intelligence 
and  health.  Your  home  and  your  youth  should  teach  you 
to  seek  bravely  for  some  good  deed  to  do. ' ' 

"  Two  years  ago,"  he  said  thoughtfully,  "  I  told  you 
that  I  had  begun  to  work.  I  wanted  to  write  a  book  to 
show  how  a  new  current  was  moving  in  our  days — a  morn- 
ing breeze  was  astir — that  everywhere  there  was  a  longing 
for  progress,  a  desire  for  change,  a  courageous  spirit  of 
improvement,  a  hunger  for  knowledge  and  righteousness. 
I  wanted  to  discover  the  direction  of  this  current  to  see 
what  sails  we  ought  to  set  and  how  we  ought  to  steer — 
we  who  watch  on  shore.  I  dreamed  of  singing  the 
German  renascence.  I  had  begun  to  work  hard  at  it,  full 
of  joy  in  my  task,  and  hoping  to  find  peace  in  it.  Then 
came  the  strike.  I  had  to  go  hither  and  thither,  helping 
and  speaking,  and  the  envy,  malice,  and  uncharitableness 
that  filled  the  hearts  of  the  men  I  worked  with  rose  and 
crushed  me  like  the  powers  of  darkness.  Then  came  the 


28o  HOLYLAND 

horrible  death  of  the  two  boys,  and  yesterday  my  home 
turned  into  a  Bedlam. 

"  Heinke,  I  know  now  that  this  trifling  change  and 
improvement  and  progress  is  meaningless  and  value- 
less. It  is  nothing.  It  will  come  to  nothing,  because  the 
whole  basis  of  our  lives  is  false — because  we  have  no 
real  standard  of  values,  no  real  religion.  Heinke,  we 
lack  a  pure  and  sound  belief — a  belief  that  can  lead  us 
on  like  a  herald  of  light  and  joy — a  belief  which  all  brave 
and  thoughtful  men  can  accept.  Look  !  if  we  had  such 
a  belief  everything  else  would  follow  of  itself.  It  is  there, 
at  the  foundation  of  our  life,  in  our  belief,  that  our  renas- 
cence must  begin. 

"  But  where  is  one  to  find  this  new  belief?  None  can 
say  where  it  is.  The  Almighty  does  not  give  it  to  us. 
It  is  awful  to  pray  to  God,  '  Lord,  show  it  me,  give  it  to 
me  !  I  and  my  people  must  perish  else,  with  bleeding 
hearts,'  and  to  feel  Him  looking  down  with  those  calm 
eyes,  saying  nothing,  His  eyes  always  calm — it  is  awful. 
Only  to  you  can  I  speak  of  this ;  you  stand  to  me  for  all 
that  is  dear  and  pure  in  life." 

The  eyes  she  raised  to  his  were  full  of  tears.  ' '  Oh  !  ' ' 
she  thought,  "how  I  long  to  kiss  his  hands,  his  eyes." 

"Do  not  weep,"  he  said;  "be  glad  that  you  have 
nothing  to  do  with  me." 

She  turned  and  walked  in  silence  by  his  side.  In  her 
youth  she  did  not  know  what  to  say  to  him.  When  she 
parted  from  him  she  said, 

"  Do  you  remember  the  fruits  you  brought  me  from  the 
South  Sea?  It  was  the  greatest  event  in  my  youth.  And 
how  you  used  to  help  me  with  my  exercises  ?  You  were 
always  good  to  me,  and  that  is  why  you  are  nearer  to  me 
than  my  mother  and  my  brothers  and  sister,  and  why  I 
cannot  rest  until  you  are  glad." 

In  the  night  she  lay  awake  till  midnight,  brooding  and 
praying  for  help.  And  her  prayers  were  passionate,  for 
she  came  of  a  family  that  seldom  prayed,  only  in  ex- 
tremity, and  then  with  all  their  hearts. 

In  the  morning,  before  the  air  had  lost  its  earliest 
freshness,  she  came  again.  He  met  her  at  the  door,  and 
they  went  on  together.  The  wind  blew  shrill  and  high. 
The  morning  sun  shone  above  the  distant  line  of  wood 
across  from  the  hill  of  Wotan.  And  there,  on  the  hill 


HOLYLAND  281 

of  Wotan,  a  mountain  regarded  as  sacred  by  their  an- 
cestors, there,  in  the  hollow  between  the  low  oak-trees 
and  the  barrows  of  the  Huns,  there  sat,  there  in  the  morn- 
ing brightness,  a  messenger  from  Him  whom  one  can 
neither  name  nor  comprehend.  Bending  forward  with  his 
shining  feet  in  the  heather,  he  bent  his  brilliant  eyes  on 
the  two  mortals  clearly  outlined  against  the  glimmering 
sea  as  they  walked  along  the  dyke.  His  eyes  were  as 
sharp  as  arrows  that  burn  in  their  flight. 

They  went  silently  side  by  side ;  the  wind  blew  back  her 
dress,  outlining  her  figure.  A  pair  of  swallows  flew  down 
from  the  hills — flew  close  by  their  knees.  She  stretched 
out  her  hand  to  catch  them,  and  gave  a  faint  cry,  saying 
in  the  same  breath,  as  if  some  outer  force  compelled  her, 
"  You  said,  yesterday,  that  the  great  need  of  our  people 
and  our  time  was  a  Holyland  on  which  to  take  their 
stand,  and  from  it  draw  a  sure  and  inward  joy  of  will  and 
life.  Tell  me,  now — has  there  ever  been  a  man  in  the  world 
who  had  his  stand  on  such  a  Holyland,  and  was,  there- 
fore, joyful,  and  reaped  a  good  harvest?  " 

He  stood  still,  regarding  her.  "Yes,"  he  said;  "I 
think  the  Saviour  did  so." 

"Yes,"  she  said;  "but  I  think  He  did  so  not  as  a 
simple  man,  but  by  His  divine  power." 

"Ah,  child!  "  he  said  sadly.  "Who  knows?  Soon 
after  His  death  His  true  image  was  painted  over,  decked 
out  with  gold,  and  it  has  gone  on  so.  There  are  scholars, 
indeed,  who  have  laboured  diligently  for  more  than  a 
century  to  discover  the  true  picture  under  all  the  paint 
with  which  it  is  overlaid,  and  especially  in  the  last  twenty 
years  they  have  succeeded  to  a  considerable  extent.  I 
know  most  of  their  investigations.  But  as  far  as  I  can 
see  they  have  not  arrived  at  any  certainty  yet."  He 
looked  at  the  ground,  deep  in  thought,  and  then  said 
hesitatingly,  "  When  I  was  a  parson  I  gloried  in  His 
wisdom  and  goodness,  and  preached  about  that.  I  thought 
it  did  not  matter  whether  He  was  an  immortal  spirit  or  a 
simple  man.  And  it  is  indifferent — no !  no !  it  is  not  in- 
different— no  !  " 

The  swallows  flew  quickly  by,  with  their  sweet  chirp, 
close  to  Heinke's  knee.  She  tried  to  catch  them;  then, 
raising  her  fair  head,  she  cried, 

"That  ought  to  be  indifferent?     That?     No!  there  is 


282  HOLYLAND 

nothing  in  the  whole  world  more  necessary  than  that  there 
should  be  certainty  in  this.  As  long  as  there  is  no 
certainty  the  Holyland  is  an  insecure,  unstable  possession, 
men's  opinions  veer  restlessly  from  one  extreme  to  the 
other,  and  every  sort  of  dogma  and  superstition  sways  the 
minds  of  men.  There  is  nothing  in  the  whole  world  more 
necessary  than  that  there  should  be  cerfainty  as  to  the 
nature  of  the  Saviour. ' ' 

He  listened  restlessly  and  then  said  slowly,  as  if  not  sure 
of  himself,  "  Yes,  yes;  I  think  you  are  right.  If  it  were 
possible,"  he  went  on,  painfully  working  out  his  thoughts, 
"if  it  were  possible  to  find  His  real  life  beneath  all  the 
overlay,  and  it  were  proved  that  He  was  a  man,  a  mere 
man,  and  one  could  penetrate  into  the  depths  of  His 
soul  and  make  them  visible,  the  Holyland  on  which  he 
took  His  stand,  and  by  which  He  reaped  such  a  mag- 
nificent harvest — then,  yes  !  then  one  could  say,  '  Come 
hither  !  all  ye  people.  Look  !  this  was  a  man — a  man 
like  ourselves,  who  stood  in  Holyland,  and  was  joyous 
and  happy.  Come  hither,  all  ye  people.  We  will  take  our 
stand  on  this  Holyland  and  build  for  the  new  birth  of  our 
people  !  '  .  .  .  But  no !  it  won't  do !  The  authorities 
are  not  sufficient.  I  do  not  believe  that  it  is  possible  to 
understand  His  soul,  His  life,  now.  No,  I  do  not  believe 
it.  Therefore  the  Church  will  always  rule  and  error  with 
it." 

The  swallows  flew  close  to  her  knee  with  their  soft 
chirping.  She  bent  down  and  held  out  her  hand  to  catch 
them,  and  they  eluded  her  shyly.  She  spoke  as  if  some 
power  outside  herself  compelled  her,  and  her  grey  eyes 
shone. 

' '  You  say  that  many  people  have  worked  at  it, 
and  that  now,  now,  important  results  have  been  estab- 
lished? Kai  Jans,  try!  Go  through  their  investigations 
with  your  child's  eyes  and  the  passion  of  your  eager  heart. 
Paint  a  picture  of  the  Saviour." 

He  beat  his  breast.  "  I?  "  he  said.  "  I,  a  poor,  un- 
learned creature?  " 

"  It  must  be  someone  like  you  who  does  it,"  she  said, 
"a  poor,  unlearned  creature.  Has  your  hard,  struggling 
youth  taught  you  to  see  the  sorrows  of  human  life  with 
your  own  eyes  and  your  father's?  God  has  given  you 
wonderful  eyes ;  they  reveal  that  from  your  childhood  you 


HOLYLAND  283 

have  seen  men  and  things  naked  as  they  are.  Or  are  you 
frightened  of  what  people  will  say?  " 

He  shook  his  head  quickly.  "  I  have  long  ago  learned 
not  to  care  what  people  think  of  me.  But  I  tell  you  it 
is  a  fearfully  difficult  task.  To  make  that  long  ago, 
distant,  wondrous  Being  live  again  !  Heaven  help  me, 
how  can  I  do  it?  " 

She  took  his  arm  and  looked  into  his  face  with  her 
beautiful,  earnest  eyes.  "  Try  !  Begin  to-morrow  morn- 
ing !  You  may  succeed  or  not.  Be  one  of  the  many  who 
stand  ready  to  help  humanity  according  to  their  strength, 
until  a  mightier  hand  comes  to  take  the  wheel.  Begin 
to-morrow,  Kai !  Search  for  Hilligenlei !  " 

They  had  come  to  a  standstill;  she  held  and  shook  his 
hands.  "  Help,  Kai !  Do  your  part  in  the  new  birth  of 
your  people,  and  be  not  afraid  !  " 

"  If  you  wish  it,"  he  said,  breathing  hard,  "  I  will  try. 
You  have  a  sweet,  wonderful  power  over  me.  I  feel  com- 
pelled as  by  an  angel  from  heaven." 

She  let  his  hands  go,  and,  calling  to  the  swallows,  went 
back  with  them  to  Hilligenlei. 

"  Look,"  she  said,  "  do  you  see  that  white  cloud  over 
by  the  Hill  of  Wotan — how  wonderfully  it  moves,  as  if  it 
were  alive. " 

He  turned  round  and  looked  at  the  world  spread  out 
before  him,  and  at  her.  She  walked  on  calmly,  her  beau- 
tiful, quiet  eyes  gazing  over  the  hills. 

"  You  are  the  queen  of  it  all,"  he  said. 

"Of  course,"  she  said.  "  Sea  and  sky  and  heath  and 
hill  cannot  do  what  I  have  just  done."  She  turned 
round.  "  Where  are  my  swallows?  " 

"  They  have  helped  you  well,"  he  said,  "  and  now  they 
have  flown  away.  You're  a  silly." 

"Go  home  and  work!"  she  said,  nodding  to  him. 
"  I  must  go  to  my  work  too." 


CHAPTER    XXV 

AND  so,  with  unquiet  and  tremulous  heart,  Kai  Jans 
began  in  the  blue-walled  room  in  the  long  house  to  search 
the  Gospel  for  Hilligenlei.  Every  afternoon  Heinke  came 
in  her  short  blue  cashmere  dress  and  knocked  at  the 
window,  and  he  would  look  up  from  his  book  quite  dazed, 
as  if  some  strange  monster,  crawled  up  from  the  harbour, 
was  pressing  its  forehead  against  the  window.  Then  he 
went  out  and  walked  silently  by  her  side;  even  then  his 
thoughts  were  in  his  work. 

If  she  asked  how  it  was  getting  on  he  shook  his  head, 
saying,  "  My  friend  has  sent  me  all  the  books  that  have 
appeared  on  the  subject  within  the  last  ten  years,  most 
of  them  by  professors  at  the  German  Universities.  I 
know  most  of  them  already.  ...  It's  a  tremendous 
undertaking ;  I  can  hardly  believe  that  any  certainty  will 
come  of  it.  And  yet  I  am  grateful  to  you  for  having 
set  me  to  work  at  it.  Even  if  I  cannot  make  the  holy, 
royal  spring  bubble  up  again — even  if  it  is  too  deeply 
sunk  and  choked — I  can  yet  find  joy  in  working  in  the 
sacred  grove  that  has  grown  up  around  it  in  the  course 
of  time." 

"  There,"  said  she,  "  there,  Heinke  Boje  !  "  She  took 
his  arm  and  told  him  how,  as  a  child,  she  had  wanted  to 
bring  him  flowers  and  had  not  dared.  "  Now  I  have 
brought  you  a  splendid  flower,"  and  she  told  him  of  her 
daily  doings. 

Of  one  thing,  however,  she  told  him  not  a  word ;  she 
did  not  tell  him  that  all  through  the  summer  she  had  sat 
every  evening  on  a  man's  knee,  and  that  now,  every  other 
day,  she  sat  on  the  edge  of  her  bed,  as  all  the  Bojes  did, 
to  read  a  letter  from  that  man,  with  sparkling  eyes  and 
glowing  cheeks. 

Things  went  on  so  for  three  weeks. 


HOLYLAND  285 

One  clear  day  in  September,  towards  the  end  of  the 
fourth  week,  she  found  him,  when  she  came  along  the 
dyke  and  knocked  at  the  window,  not,  as  usual,  buried  in 
his  books,  but  standing  gazing  out  across  the  sea  with  a 
strange  calm  in  his  eyes.  He  came  out  at  once  eagerly, 
and,  taking  her  arm,  said  with  marked  excitement,  "  Dear, 
it  is  growing  plain.  .  .  .  There  is  no  doubt  about  it.  I 
can't  tell  you  how  strangely  I  feel.  ...  It  gets  clearer 
and  clearer;  it  is  the  life  of  a  man,  wonderfully  deep, 
wonderfully  pure,  wonderfully  brave,  but  the  life  of  a 
man.  It  is  all  infinitely  moving  from  beginning  to  end  : 
his  faith,  his  goodness,  his  proud  longing  for  the  victory 
he  could  not  win,  his  mistakes,  his  death;  but  I  don't 
think  there  is  anything  superhuman  in  it.  It  is  a  drama, 
and  angels  experience  no  drama.  Let  us  go  out  to  sea ; 
I  will  try  to  tell  you  some  of  it.  You  must  ask  me  if  I 
say  anything  strange,  and  so  it  will  all  be  clearer  to  me. 
Oh,  Heinke  !  you  see,  there  is  no  one  to  whom  I  can  talk 
of  this." 

So  he  began,  and  she  listened  attentively.  Often  he 
paused  to  remark  that  links  were  still  missing  here  or 
there;  often  her  simple  questions  gave  him  pause  and 
showed  him  that  his  conclusions  had  been  too  hastily 
formed. 

So  it  went  on,  day  after  day.  It  was  all  new  and 
strange  to  her,  and  filled  her  with  a  glad  astonishment. 

"  I  am  not  going  to  write  anything  yet,"  he  said.  "  I 
must  think  it  all  out  clearly  and  simply ;  simplicity  is  the 
first  essential  in  religion  of  all  things.  I  shall  represent 
Him  entirely  from  the  historical  point  of  view,  keeping 
close  to  the  original  sources,  only  supplying  the  very 
briefest  connection  where  they  fail.  Every  word  must  be 
three  times  revised." 

At  the  beginning  of  September  he  tried  to  begin  to 
write,  but  all  kinds  of  difficulties  presented  themselves. 
Once  more  he  had  to  spend  long  days  in  searching  the 
original  sources  and  the  books  of  the  more  recent  investi- 
gators. This  lasted  for  weeks,  during  which  he  wrote 
down  nothing. 

The  weather  being  rainy  he  took  his  walk  on  the  dyke 
alone ;  when  she  came  in  the  evening  she  found  him  quiet 
and  thoughtful.  While  she  was  there  his  father  would 
return  from  work,  and  after  eating  his  supper,  as  usual, 


286  HOLYLAND 

sitting  by  the  kitchen  fire,  came  in  and  sat  with  them, 
smoking  his  pipe.  Still  deep  in  thought,  Kai  Jans  only 
half  heard  the  old  man's  tale  of  human  life,  and  his  eyes 
wandered  to  the  beautiful,  earnest  face  of  the  girl  beside 
him. 

After  a  hard  day's  work  a  man  sits  down  by  the 
edge  of  the  calm  pond  in  the  forest  and  refreshes  himself 
in  the  silence  with  gazing  in  the  beautiful  mirror,  and 
hearing  the  high  oaks  murmuring  in  the  breeze  of 
all  that  had  happened  in  the  day.  And  the  young 
woman  looked  at  him  and  thought  calmly,  "  What  a  dear 
serious  man  he  is  become ;  I  love  him  more  and  more.  If 
I  did  not  love  the  other  so  dearly  it  would  be  an  agony 
to  me  that  he  does  not  want  me ;  to  be  loved  by  him  would 
be  inexpressibly  joyful.  But  now  he  is  my  friend,  and  I 
am  happy." 

But  the  further  he  penetrated  into  that  wondrous  life, 
the  more  difficult  became  each  decision,  and  his  soul  grew 
heavier  and  heavier.  Added  to  it  all  came  day  after  day 
of  gloomy  rain.  He  was  tortured  by  the  fear  lest  his 
work  might  pain  many  good  people  and  might  send  those 
of  coarser  mould,  restrained  by  some  secret  fear  of  the 
Son  of  God,  headlong  into  evil  courses. 

At  times,  and  more  especially  at  night,  when  incessant 
work  and  anxiety  kept  him  awake,  and  rain  and  wind 
beat  mercilessly  against  his  window,  distrust  and  terror 
assailed  him  fiercely.  "  You  are  wrong,  you  are  wrong. 
He  was  eternal,  divine,  a  supernatural  being.  Woe  to 
you  !  you  are  committing  mortal  sin  !  "  In  the  middle  of 
the  night  he  seemed  to  hear  it.  ' '  Arise  !  the  two  greatest 
men  of  thy  race  are  waiting  at  thy  door  to  speak  with 
thee.  .  .  .  Look  at  Luther's  angry  face.  '  Does  thy 
belief  step  over  me  like  a  step  on  the  ladder?  '  "  Yes,  it 
does."  And  lo,  who  is  that  behind  Martin  Luther?  The 
old  man  from  Weimar  himself,  mocking  at  thee.  "  Don't 
trouble  yourself !  you  can  never  weld  together  those  dis- 
cordant elements,  Christianity  and  the  German  race!" 
"Yes,  I  shall." 

Then  when  morning  came,  grey  and  sunless,  he  shrank 
from  his  work,  and,  casting  aside  his  pen,  went  out. 

There  on  the  dyke,  with  the  boisterous  wind  blowing 
gloomily  around  hjm  and  the  rain  beating  heavily  against 
him,  he  fought  the  old  fight  again,  wrestling  in  speech 


HOLYLAND  287 

with  God.  ' '  Thou  knowest  I  have  sought  Thee  and  Thy 
Holyland  from  my  childhood,  and  Thou,  therefore,  hast 
laid  upon  me  immeasurable  sorrow.  Where  for  me  has 
been  the  joyousness  of  youth  ?  Thou  knowest  how  it  has 
tortured  me  all  my  days  that  for  two  hundred  years  the 
Church  has  reviled  the  heroes,  the  poets,  the  pioneers 
among-  my  race ;  how,  because  '  they  believed  in  no 
Saviour,  because  they  were  not  Christians,'  they  were 
thrust  aside  from  Thee.  .  .  .  Can  I  endure  it?  .  .  . 
Thou  knowest  how  it  has  tortured  me  all  my  days  that  all 
those  of  my  race  that  seek  for  progress,  artisans,  sailors, 
merchants,  teachers,  artists,  all  those  whose  minds  are 
refreshed  by  the  breath  of  wisdom,  all  those  who  are 
strong  and  eager,  have  fallen  away  from  the  beliefs  of 
the  Church,  and  therefore  stand  in  the  midst  of  the 
struggle  of  human  existence  without  any  belief,  that  is, 
without  any  rest  for  their  feet.  .  .  .  Can  I  endure  it? 
Thou  knowest  that  I  love  Thee  as  truly  as  those  that  hold 
the  old  belief,  that  I  do  not  wish  to  destroy  and  have  no 
joy  in  destruction,  but  would  rather  build,  and,  as  far  as 
my  poor  strength  permits,  will  build  a  new  house  of  belief 
on  the  old  holy  ground ;  a  house  even  be  it  only  a  log  hut 
at  first,  in  which  those  among  my  people  who  are  simple 
and  serious  and  childlike  of  heart  may  dwell  and  find 
their  happiness  in  dwelling  there.  And,  therefore,  I  am 
daring  to  do  what  I  do.  If  Thou  forbiddest  me,  I  shall 
not  listen." 

When  he  came  home  again  he  had  so  far  recovered  his 
spirits  as  to  continue  step  by  step  to  follow  the  course  of 
the  holy  hero's  life.  In  the  evening  he  sat  under  the 
oak  trees,  by  the  deep  pond  in  the  forest,  saying  no  word 
of  what  lay  between  his  soul  and  God  alone. 

At  last  there  came  a  lovely  sunny  September  morning, 
a  Friday;  a  day  when  all  through  the  countryside  one 
could  see  the  flash  of  the  sickles  and  the  wheat  set  up 
in  beauteous  sheaves ;  a  day  when  he  reached  the  end  of 
his  researches  and  at  last  saw  a  way  that  led,  high  and 
clear,  into  the  future  of  mankind.  Now  he  could  begin 
to  write  all  he  saw  as  a  living  thing.  And  he  drew  a 
deep  breath. 

When  she  came  he  rose  up  and  said,  laughing,  "  I  feel 
so  light-hearted  and  joyous  !  All  the  ghosts  have  gone  !  " 


288  HOLYLAND 

She  looked  at  him  with  merry  eyes.  "  You  look  like 
the  young  farmers  who  get  up  ever  so  early  at  this  season 
and  go  out  to  the  cornfield  they  are  going  to  reap. ' ' 

"  And  you  !  "  he  said,  with  beaming  looks,  "  what  has 
come  over  you?  Do  you  think  my  eyes  are  blind  to  all 
beauty?  Now  .  .  .  now  I  have  found  my  sight,  I  can 
see  what  I  used  to  see  in  the  days  when  I  was  a  student 
in  Berlin." 

A  kind  of  terror  smote  her,  and  she  made  no  reply. 

"  Come,"  he  said,  "  let's  go  a  long,  long  walk  together 
— quite  alone.  What  is  it,  child  ?  You  can't  be  surprised 
at  my  looking  at  you  !  Do  you  know,  life  has  become 
quite  clear  to  me." 

"  You  mustn't  look  at  me  like  that,"  she  said,  and  her 
voice  quivered. 

He  took  her  and  laughed  out  gaily,  walking  close  by 
her  side.  "And  why  mayn't  I?  You're  no  longer  in 
the  dream  where  womanhood  and  girlhood  meet.  This 
year  has  made  you  a  woman,  and  such  a  woman  !  " 

She  laid  her  two  hands  on  his  and  implored  him  with 
ill-concealed  anxiety,  "  Dear  boy,  please  .  .  .  please  don't 
talk  to  me  so." 

He  did  not  see  the  anxiety — he  only  saw  the  friendship 
and  the  love  shining  in  her  lovely  eyes,  and  kissed  her 
restraining  hands,  laughing  in  his  exaltation  of  spirits. 
Then,  looking  at  her  hand,  he  kissed  it  again  and  said, 
his  heart  bounding  with  irrepressible  joyousness,  "  For 
seven  years  I  have  sat  brooding,  brooding  on  the  hill  of 
sorrow,  till  at  last  the  most  lovely  maiden  in  the  land 
came  and  smote  the  hill  with  her  echoing  voice,  and  I 
leapt  to  my  feet  and  beheld  the  world  and  the  sun  and 
the  kingdom  of  Heaven."  He  took  her  by  the  shoulders, 
and,  looking  into  her  face,  said,  "  Look  at  me.  .  .  . 
look  at  me.  .  .  .  How  beautiful  you  are!  " 

She  cried  out  in  pain,  "  Dear  Kai  .  .  .  don't  talk  so  ! 
I  cannot,  cannot  tell  you." 

But  his  whole  heart  was  singing  a  joyful  carol,  and  he 
did  not  hear  the  trouble  in  her  voice.  ' '  Come,  let  us  go 
up  to  the  heights  by  the  quiet  way  through  the  fields. 
There  shall  be  nothing  but  joy  to-day  !  To-morrow  I  will 
begin  to  sing  the  song  of  the  Saviour,  such  as  no  man 
yet  has  sung.  .  .  .  Up  till  now  you  have  always  talked 
and  I  said  nothing;  a  tiresome,  speechless  lover  I  have 


HOLYLAND  289 

been  to  you.  Poor  child,  you  have  never  had  any  pleasure 
from  me.  Have  I  ever  told  ygu  how  beautifully  you 
walk?  like  a  young  queen  who  has  just  been  anointed. 
Have  I  ever  told  you  how  beautifully  you  carry  your 
shoulders?  as  if  there  sat  a  dove  on  each,  whom  you 
cradled  as  you  went.  Have  I  ever  told  you  how  beautiful 
your  hair  is?  it  must  be  wonderful  when  it  lies  over  your 
white  shoulders.  Yes,  yes,  you  will  have  a  lover  to  rejoice 
in  you,  one  who  is  no  dreamer." 

All  the  hardness,  all  the  reserve  seemed  wiped  out  of 
his  face,  and  all  the  sorrow.  When  the  windows  of  a 
house  that  has  long  stood  closed  and  silent  are  cleansed 
and  opened,  and  the  door  cast  wide,  then  a  crowd  of 
pretty  children  stream  out  laughing  into  the  lovely  garden  : 
so  from  his  eyes,  dear  and  true,  there  shone  intelligence 
and  beauty,  such  a  flood  of  love  and  goodness  pouring 
upon  her  that  she  could  not  turn  away  her  eyes. 

"How  different  you  are!  "  she  said.  "  Don't  talk  to 
me  so!  Please,  please,  Kai,  don't  talk  so — please." 

"  I  am  just  what  I  have  always  been,  Heinke,"  he 
said,  in  a  voice  of  tender  sympathy,  stroking  her  hands ; 
"only  I  have  been  sick  and  sorry  for  a  long  time  and 
you  have  had  to  suffer  with  me.  Now  I  am  well  again. 
You  must  not  be  afraid,  my  dear,  because  it  all  comes 
out  at  once,  in  a  rush." 

"Dear!"  she  said,  "dear  one!"  She  covered  her 
face  with  her  hands  and  groaned  inwardly,  "  I  cannot 
tell  him  .  .  .  no,  I  cannot.  This  is  the  first  happy  day 
in  his  life!" 

"  Smile  at  me!  isn't  it  like  a  fairy  tale?  Here  am  I, 
a  poor  little  working  man,  walking  along  the  dyke  with 
the  fairest  maiden  in  all  the  land  by  my  side  !  Whither? 
Whither?  Let  us  take  the  grassy  path  and  we  shall  be 
on  the  top  in  half  an  hour.  There  is  no  one  there;  we 
can  be  together  for  hours.  I  will  find  a  place  in  the  wood 
and  there  kneel  before  you  and  look  at  you,  only  look  at 
you,  no  more,  for  hour  after  hour.  There  is  no  greater 
pleasure — oh,  you  have  such  a  delicate  white  face  !  you 
dainty  white  maid  of  Holstein  !  " 

She  tried  to  say  to  him,  "  I  can't,  Kai  ...  I  can't.  .  .  . 
I  am  promised  to  another.  ...  I  love  another  beyond 
everything,"  but  the  words  would  not  come;  she  could 
not  say  it.  Such  happiness  beamed  in  his  eyes ;  the 

u 


29o  HOLYLAND 

beating  of  his  heart  made  his  voice  tremble.  "  Let  him 
be  happy  for  one  day  .  .  .  poor,  precious  man.  It  is 
so  delightful  to  see  him  happy.  How  his  love  burns,  how 
his  eyes  shine.  He  shall  have  my  hands,  both  my 
hands  .  .  .  but  no  more.  ...  I  cannot  let  him  do  any- 
thing more." 

So  she  walked  by  his  side  on  the  green  grass,  through 
the  wide,  rich  meadowland,  her  heart  torn  by  uneasy 
apprehension. 

He  was  as  happy  as  a  boy.  He  laughed  and  played 
with  her  hands,  then  let  them  fall  to  pick  the  flowers 
growing  at  the  edge  of  the  ditch,  which  he  fastened  in 
her  hair  and  bosom,  and  a  daisy  garland  round  her  waist. 
She  let  him  do  his  will,  thinking  first  in  pain,  "  O  misery," 
then  in  sweet  content,  ' '  The  dear  man.  He  shall  have 
my  hands,  both  my  hands,"  and  she  slipped  her  hands 
into  his,  thinking,  "No  more." 

Half  an  hour  later  they  had  reached  the  deepest  solitude 
of  the  wood.  She,  still  adorned  with  her  flowers,  sat  on 
the  edge  of  a  ruinous  old  wall,  while  he  knelt  before  her, 
with  his  arms  round  her,  gazing  up  into  her  face  in 
unutterable  rapture,  and  imploring  her  again  and  again, 
"  Give  me  your  lips."  Again  and  again  she  bent  down 
to  him  and  kissed  him  till  he  talked  like  one  possessed. 
With  overwhelming  suddenness  he  saw  spread  out  before 
his  eyes  the  glory  of  the  world,  with  its  sure  and  dazzling 
hope  for  himself  and  all  humanity,  and  now  a  pure  and 
lovely  woman  was  in  his  arms. 

Clouds  blew  over  the  wood  from  the  east;  the  first 
heavy  drops  fell  through  the  sultry  air,  audible  on  the 
foliage  of  the  trees.  ' '  I  can  never  gaze  enough  at  you.  I 
shall  never  rise  again.  I  am  so  at  rest,  so  happy ;  for  the 
first  time  in  my  life  I  am  filled  with  happiness  and  peace. 
.  .  .  Oh,  your  kisses  ...  it  comes  to  you  by  nature, 
but  I  must  learn  from  you  how  to  kiss." 

"  Kai,  Kai,  no  more.  Dear  one,  no  more  to-day.  To- 
morrow— oh,  to-morrow — no  more  now  !  " 

"  Yes,  to-day  and  to-morrow  and  every  day.  I  am  the 
most  blissful  man  in  the  world.  I  have  often  wondered 
why  all  other  men  seemed  so  gay  and  peaceful  and  serene, 
and  I  alone  must  always  suffer,  must  bear  the  pain  of 
want  of  money,  of  trouble  at  home,  of  continual  brooding. 
But  now  I  am  glad  of  it ;  now  that  I  have  found  happiness 


HOLYLAND  291 

I  can  feel  the  deeper  bliss  and  thankfulness.  .  .  . 
Reverent  I  have  always  been,  dear,  you  know  that;  since 
I  was  a  child  I  have  always  looked  up  with  a  humble 
heart  to  the  mysterious  Ruler  of  the  World,  but  never  did 
I  feel  such  profound  reverence  as  to-day,  when  I  recognise 
His  mysterious  hand  in  the  most  beautiful  of  created 
things.  Yes  .  .  .  now  I  can  tell  the  story  of  the  Saviour. 
He  grew  up  from  the  earth  and  was  the  most  beauti- 
ful of  the  children  of  men ;  more  beautiful  even  than 
you!  " 

She  sat  looking  at  him  and  holding  his  two  hands  in 
her  lap.  The  sweetness  of  his  love  swept  over  her,  as 
wave  after  wave  breaks  over  a  vessel  lying  stranded  on 
its  side,  until  it  is  altogether  broken  and  washed  away. 
"  He  has  the  elder  right;  from  my  childhood  he  has  been 
my  friend.  I  have  been  wrong.  I  thought  he  was  only 
a  dreamer  and  loved  me  not ;  I  never  knew  how  I  had 
secretly  grown  to  love  him.  Never  before  have  I  seen 
this  new  beautiful  side  of  him.  How  beautiful  his  hard 
face  and  his  bright  eyes  are.  .  .  .  Alas  !  what  am  I  to 
do?  What  am  I  doing?  Let  me  go,  Kai  .  .  .  Kai, 
don't — don't  kiss  me  any  more." 

"  Give  me  your  lips.  I  shall  not  sleep  to-night  if  I 
have  lost  one  kiss." 

"  It's  beginning  to  rain,  Kai.  .  .  .  We  must  go  home. " 

"  Let  it  rain,  Heinke,  let  it  rain;  it  will  bring  nothing 
but  blessings  on  your  dear  fair  head." 

She  bent  down  to  him  with  a  gesture  of  passionate 
abandonment  and  kissed  him  again  and  again,  her  heart 
rent  in  twain.  "  Oh,  if  he  could  know  and  behold  this  ! 
He  has  given  to  me  all  the  purity  of  his  youth,  and  now 
I  am  sitting  here  with  another.  Oh,  is  it  possible.  .  .  . 
I  am  a  wretched  creature.  .  .  .  Oh,  I  must  leave  him  and 
turn  to  this  one.  ...  I  have  never  known  how  much  I 
loved  him.  .  .  .  No,  no.  I  cannot  leave  him ;  he  would 
despise  and  hate  me,  and  that  would  kill  me.  Oh,  un- 
happy that  I  am,  how  dear  his  eyes  are ;  they  are  to 
blame.  I  will  look  at  them  no  more."  She  covered  her 
eyes  with  her  hands  and  groaned  aloud,  "  Don't  kiss  me 
any  more  .  .  .  it's  raining  so.  ...  Come,  dear  Kai,  I 
mustn't  do  it  any  more — I  mustn't." 

He  sprang  to  his  feet,  and,  sitting  by  her  side,  put  his 
arms  round  her.  "  Let  it  rain — only  give  me  your 

U    2 


292  H  O  L  Y  UA  N  D 

lips  .  .  .  why  are  they  so  red,  why  do  they  kiss  so 
burningly?  Oh,  your  mouth  is  wonderful;  your  eyes  are 
inexpressibly  sweet.  ...  It  is  strange  that  your  cheeks 
do  not  burn." 

"  You  must  kiss  them,  Kai,  then  they  too  will  burn. 
Come,  dear,  dear  one,  come  to  me. ' '  She  turned  to  him 
and  kissed  him  without  ceasing  on  cheek  and  mouth.  Her 
hair  had  become  loose,  and  she  undid  it  and  spread  the 
soft  waves,  on  which  the  rain  fell  in  heavy  drops,  all  over 
him.  Her  breath  came  hard  and  her  whole  body  trembled. 
"  I  must  do  what  I  am  doing,"  she  thought,  "God  for- 
give me.  To-morrow  I  will  tell  him — to-day  is  a  day  of 
laughter  and  tears,  kisses  and  gnashing  of  teeth.  Mother 
was  right  when  she  said,  '  You  Bojes  will  all  suffer 
because  of  your  proud,  passionate  hearts. '  Come  to  me, 
Kai ;  to-day  all  shall  be  given  you.  Come  .  .  .  there  .  .  . 
now.  Kiss  me,  kiss  me.  Your  kisses  are  dear  and 
pure." 

The  heavy  summer  rain  wet  her  thin  dress  so  that  it 
clung  close  to  her  form;  he  passed  his  hand  over  her, 
kissing  the  wet  garment  and  praising  the  beauty  of  her 
limbs  in  eager,  trembling  words.  So  they  sat  at  the  edge 
of  the  wood  under  the  young  beeches,  he  in  happiness, 
she  with  tortured  conscience,  till  the  dusk  came. 

Then  they  rose  and  went  down  from  the  heights  of  the 
valley,  turning  into  the  way  that  led  to  Hilligenlei.  It 
was  an  ancient  way,  that  had  been  tramped  by  all  kinds 
of  feet,  and  now  these  two  passed  along  it.  He  spoke 
of  the  happiness  of  to-morrow,  she  said  nothing  of  the 
misery  of  to-morrow. 

She  came  home  and  went  up  into  her  room.  Then, 
ringing  her  hands,  she  quickly  changed  her  clothes,  and 
then,  throwing  herself  on  her  bed,  stared  out  into  the 
darkness.  Her  mother  came  in  and  said  that  she  was 
going  to  spend  the  evening  with  Anna,  but  she  made  no 
answer. 

She  cried  aloud,  over  and  over  again,  without 
her  own  knowledge,  "What  am  I  to  do?  "  For  a  time 
it  seemed  clear  that  Kai  Jans  had  the  elder  claim.  Then 
she  saw  the  other,  alone  and  unhappy,  with  all  his  life 
the  bitter  feeling  in  his  heart,  ' '  That  which  was  most 
sacred  has  betrayed  you."  .  .  .  Then  she  resolved  to 
write  to  Kai  and  tell  him,  "  I  cannot;  I  am  promised  to 


HOLYLAND  293 

another,"  but  then  she  heard  his  misery  break  forth 
in  a  loud  cry.  She  could  come  to  no  conclusion,  and 
wandered  all  over  the  house  seeking-  for  a  room 
where  she  could  leave  her  sorrow  on  the  other  side  of  the 
threshold. 

At  last,  she  could  not  have  said  how,  she  found  herself 
in  the  gable  room.  There,  as  if  compelled  by  some  might 
stronger  than  her  own,  she  fell  suddenly  on  to  her  knees 
by  the  table  where  they  had  sat  together,  first  looking  at 
the  pictures,  afterwards  she  sitting-  on  his  knee.  Then 
her  tears  came  at  last.  She  wept  aloud,  stroking  the 
table-cloth  and  the  arm  of  the  chair  with  her  hand,  and 
kissing  them  as  she  spoke  to  him,  "  My  true  love,  my 
dear,  dear  one,  listen  a  moment.  I  cannot  live  and  know 
you  alone  and  sorrowful.  Ah,  my  dear,  how  quickly  you 
caught  me,  how  fast  you  held  me,  how  you  trusted  me, 
how  good  and  dear  you  were !  You  did  not  ask  how  it 
stood  with  soul  and  body;  you  trusted  wholly  in  my 
goodness.  You  laid  your  pure  young  manhood  at  my 
feet.  .  .  .  Oh,  come  to  me,  come.  ...  I  long  to  show 
you  how  I  love  you."  She  vrept  and  stroked  the  table- 
cloth, and  gradually  became  calmer.  Her  tears  ceased 
and  things  became  clear  to  her. 

She  lit  the  lamp,  and,  sitting  down  at  his  desk,  wrote  a 
short  letter  to  Kai  Jans,  telling  him  of  her  engagement 
and  how  she  had  not  been  able  to  tell  him  of  it.  Now 
she  must  tell  him  that,  and  tell  him  she  could  not  leave 
her  betrothed ;  it  would  embitter  his  whole  life,  and  her 
conscience  would  never  cease  to  torment  her.  "  Kai,  I 
cannot  do  it.  ...  I  am  alone  in  the  house  and  I  implore 
you,  come  and  let  me  comfort  you  and  be  strong;  I 
cannot  bear  to  see  your  despair." 

Half  an  hour  later,  as  she  stood  with  beating  heart  by 
the  table  in  the  lower  room,  listening  to  every  step  that 
passed  in  the  street,  he  came. 

"  Kai,"  she  said,  stretching  her  hands  out  to  him  in 
entreaty,  "  I  could  not  have  acted  differently  .  .  .  to-day. 
You  were  so  happy,  you  carried  me  off  my  feet ;  your  love 
came  so  suddenly  and  was  so  sweet.  _Oh,  Kai,  forgive 
me;  be  strong.  I  cannot,  cannot  desert  him." 

Pale  as  death,  he  could  not  utter  a  word.  She  sank 
down  on  the  sofa  and  wept  bitterly,  her  arms  on  the  table 
in  front  of  her.  "Oh,  poor,  dear  one.  I  cannot,  I 


294  HOLYLAND 

cannot.     Oh,  don't  look  at  me  in  such  despair.     Oh,  what 
misery  everywhere." 

He  sat  down  opposite  to  her  and  asked  her  in  a  voice 
of  utter  dejection  how  she  had  got  to  know  the  other, 
how  long-  they  had  been  together,  what  their  relations 
were,  and  so  forth.  With  outstretched  arms  and  her 
hands  folded  on  the  table,  the  tears  streaming  from  her 
eyes  as  she  looked  at  him,  she  answered  each  of  his 
questions  as  if  replying  to  a  judge. 

At  last  she  cried,  weeping  bitterly,  "It  is  impossible 
for  me  to  leave  him ;  I  should  ruin  his  life,  and  that  would 
make  me  miserable  too.  His  heart  is  mine,  wholly,  and 
mine  his.  I  love  you,  too,  very  much ;  I  love  you  terribly 
.  .  .  how  much  I  did  not  know  .  .  .  but  I  must  con- 
quer it." 

"That's  the  end,  then,"  said  he.  "It  is  my  fate,  and 
no  one  can  contend  with  fate.  There  only  remains  the 
question  of  what  I  am  to  do  with  my  life. ' ' 

His  utter  wretchedness  appalled  her  and  she  cried  aloud, 
sinking  back  in  the  chair  and  stretching  out  her  hands 
to  him.  "  I  implore  you  to  be  strong.  I  love  you  so. 
Oh,  Kai,  be  my  dear  friend.  Kai,  some  day,  perhaps,  a 
terrible  sorrow  will  come  to  me  or  to  my  children.  ... 
Who  will  help  me  then  ?  Oh,  dear  one,  do  not  turn  from 
me  in  anger.  ...  I  cannot  bear  it. " 

He  bent  over  her  and  stroked  her  hair.  "  I  am  not 
angry  with  you ;  far,  far  from  that.  It  is  our  fate.  Be 
not  afraid.  I  am  a  man ;  I  can  see  to  it  that  I  hold  my 
head  upright.  I  have  my  old  father  and  your  dear  friend- 
ship still.  There  .  .  .  there  .  .  .  don't  cry  so.  ... 
Now  let  me  go." 

She  held  his  hands  fast,  weeping  sore.  "  I  will  think 
all  night  what  I  can  do  for  you ;  all  my  life  I  will  try  to 
find  a  way  to  make  you  glad.  It  would  have  made  me 
so  happy  to  have  been  your  wife,  so  happy.  He  knows 
of  you,  how  dear  you  are  to  me,  how  good.  I  have  told 
him  a  great  deal  about  you,  and  I  shall  tell  my  children. 
Kai,  have  pity  on  me;  be  brave  and  do  not  ruin  my  life 
and  his." 

He  looked  down  upon  her  and  stroked  her  lovely,  fair 
hair  again  and  again  without  saying  a  word,  with  eyes 
that  seemed  to  say  ' '  How  strange  it  is ;  how  sacred  !  ' ' 
Then  he  went  away. 


HOLYLAND  295 

He  went  home  to  the  little  blue  room  that  opened  from 
the  kitchen,  where  he  had  slept  since  he  was  a  child,  and 
lay  long  unconscious  on  his  bed,  without  stirring.  He 
was  aroused  by  what  seemed  to  be  the  sound  of  a  deep 
voice,  saying  clearly,  "Did  you  think  you  could  tell  the 
Saviour's  story  with  laughter  in  your  heart?  "  He  covered 
his  face  with  his  hands  and  wept. 

The  next  day  he  sent  her  a  brief  note,  in  which  he 
begged  her  not  to  come  to  him  for  the  present;  he  could 
not  bear  to  see  her.  After  finishing  his  work  he  should 
go  away.  He  had  heard  from  his  old  friend  that  he  was 
sailing  for  Cape  Town  at  the  end  of  the  month,  and 
probably  he  would  accompany  him.  He  should  be  glad  to 
have  an  opportunity  of  getting  to  know  the  man  she  loved. 

A  week  later  Peter  Volquardsen  returned,  and,  having 
heard  everything  from  Heinke,  went  over  in  the  evening 
and  talked  things  over  with  Kai.  He  told  him  of  his  own 
quiet,  peaceful  childhood,  sheltered  by  the  care  of  wise 
and  thoughtful  parents ;  of  his  acquaintance  with  a  splen- 
did and  cultured  man,  who  had  brought  into  his  life 
the  purifying  influences  of  art.  All  his  life  had  been 
ordered  and  wisely  counselled.  His  mother  had  taught 
him  to  know  the  great  mysteries  of  life,  its  inner  secrets ; 
his  father  and  his  elder  brothers  had  taught  him  the  ways 
of  the  world.  He  had  gone  through  life  as  through  a 
garden,  beautiful  in  its  unclouded  peace,  without  trouble 
or  doubt,  guarded  to  the  right  and  the  left  by  the  fair 
gifts  of  art;  and  one  day  he  had  come  on  his  way  upon 
the  most  precious  thing  of  all,  more  to  him  than  all  that 
art  could  give — Heinke  Boje.  He  related  all  this  with 
shining  eyes  in  his  clear,  straightforward  way ;  at  the  end 
he  took  Kai  Jans's  arm  and  said,  "  I  know  that  your  life 
has  been  different." 

Then  Kai  told  him  the  story  of  his  own  life ;  in  a  quiet, 
emotionless  voice  he  told  him  his  earliest  recollection  was 
that  his  little  mother  had  no  money  in  the  house,  that 
she  used  to  read  English  novels,  and  the  only  pictures  he 
ever  saw  were  Berlin  fashion  plates  and  the  hideous  paint- 
ings in  church.  He  described  the  day  when  his  eldest 
sister  had  come  home  and  knelt  before  her  mother  on  the 
ground;  the  time  he  had  spent  in  learning  from  Heine 
Wulk  how  to  be  a  wind-bag;  then  his  wretchedness  on 


296  HOLYLAND 

the  Clara  and  the  confused  experiences  on  the  Gude  Wife, 
when  his  hand  was  injured,  and  he  used  to  think  con- 
stantly, "  You  are  no  use  for  anything;  jump  overboard." 
Then  came  the  grammar  school,  the  sensation  of  ill-fitting 
clothes  and  heavy  boots,  and  the  weariness  of  giving 
lessons ;  the  feeling,  ' '  Your  father  is  a  strange,  vague 
sort  of  man";  then  his  poverty-stricken  student  days. 
Student  days  !  when  hungry  eyes  catch  stolen  glimpses 
of  the  range  and  variety  of  life;  when  one  strives  blindly 
in  the  mighty  stream  of  existence  and  the  only  pleasure 
lies  in  friendships  with  young  men  in  happier  circum- 
stances and  occasional  glances  from  a  girl's  friendly  eyes. 
Then  with  manhood  came  the  time  of  gloomy,  puzzled 
brooding,  when  his  soul  seemed  oppressed  by  leaden 
clouds  that  weighed  upon  it,  when  all  round  was  anxious, 
impenetrable  darkness  and  for  long  no  light.  Then  at 
last,  when  the  darkness  became  hideous,  came  the 
light !  .  .  .  yes  .  .  .  and  with  the  light  came  knowledge 
of  the  truth  and  beauty  by  his  side.  He  had  known  her 
from  a  child ;  he  had  a  claim ;  at  least,  he  had  helped  her 
soul  and  character  to  grow.  He  thought  she  belonged  to 
him  ...  oh,  how  dear,  how  beautiful  she  is  ...  how 
beautiful  and  dear ! 

Thus  they  began,  each  speaking  of  himself;  then  they 
turned  to  wide  and  serious  problems,  and  it  soon  proved 
that  there  was  much  sympathy  in  spite  of  all  differences 
in  temperament  and  circumstances.  They  parted  with  the 
feeling  that  they  could  be  friends. 

A  week  later  Heinke  herself  came,  in  spite  of  his 
request.  With  a  shy  gesture  of  unspeakable  tenderness 
she  begged  him  to  walk  a  little  way  with  her.  In  reply 
to  her  question  he  told  her  that  he  had  begun  his  descrip- 
tion of  the  life  of  Jesus,  and  was  painfully  making  pro- 
gress with  it ;  he  hoped  to  complete  it  in  about  five  weeks. 

Soon  he  made  her  turn  back.  She  saw  that  he  spoke 
with  difficulty,  his  face  was  pale  and  his  eyes  fixed  on 
the  path.  She  asked  him  in  a  low,  trembling  voice,  "  Do 
you  dislike  walking  with  me?  " 

"  I  cannot  bear  it!  "  he  said  breathing  hard,  "it  is 
beyond  my  power.  I  cannot  bear  to  see  your  face  and 
the  movements  of  your  dear  body ;  it  is  too  much. " 

"Oh,"  she  moaned,  "  what  a  wretched  creature  I  am." 

"  It  will  be  different,"  he  said,  "with  the  passage  of 


HOLYLAND  297 

time — but  now,  I  beg  you,  do  not  come  again.  I  will 
come  to  you  once  before  I  go  away  !  " 

She  wept  aloud.  "Oh,  I  wanted  you  so  much  to  go 
on  caring  for  me  until  we  both  grew  old  and  quiet;  then 
we  could  sit  side  by  side,  holding  each  other's  hand.  I 
can't  bear  you  to  be  strange  and  wrath  with  me." 

"  How  could  I  be  wrath  with  you?  "  he  said.  "  Have 
you  sinned  against  me?  You  are  love  and  truth  itself; 
nothing  I  possess  is  more  precious  than  your  friendship; 
believe  me,  I  shall  cherish  it.  But  now  I  must  go  away 
and  stay  away,  until  I  am  strong.  Go  now,  be  not  afraid 
for  me." 

He  gave  her  his  hand  and  she  went,  weeping. 

For  six  weeks  he  worked  day  by  day  and  heard  nothing 
from  her.  But  every  day,  as  he  walked  along  the  dyke 
about  four  o'clock,  he  could  see,  looking  beyond  the  town 
in  the  direction  of  Volkmersdorf,  a  solitary  figure  stand- 
ing. He  stood  still,  and  they  looked  across  at  one  another 
without  daring  to  raise  their  hands  in  greeting. 

One  lovely  evening  in  the  middle  of  October,  when  a 
fresh,  cold  autumn  breeze  was  blowing  and  the  golden  rays 
of  the  sinking  sun  tinged  the  last  leaves  of  the  chestnuts 
with  vivid  colour,  Heinke  Boje  came  home  from  Volk- 
mersdorf without  having  seen  him.  She  went  into  her 
room,  and  there,  on  her  bed,  lay  a  letter,  in  which  he  said 
farewell  to  her  in  a  few  tender  words,  and  beside  it  a 
fresh  manuscript,  with  the  superscription,  in  the  strong 
well-formed  letters  that  she  loved  so  well,  "The  Life  of 
the  Saviour,  presented  in  accordance  with  the  results 
of  German  research :  the  foundation  of  the  German 
Renascence." 


CHAPTER    XXVI 

THE    MANUSCRIPT 

MANKIND  has  risen  painfully  out  of  the  darkness  of 
night.  Its  rise  has  taken  many  hundred  thousand  years. 
For  hundreds  of  thousands  of  years  men  lived  like  foxes 
in  a  land  without  trees  or  forests.  Couching-  fearfully  in 
caves  in  wakeful  slumber,  in  cunning  ambush  or  in  wild 
attack,  their  existence  was  that  of  the  animals,  and  they 
had  no  consciousness  of  any  difference  between  them. 
Gradually  in  the  course  of  thousands  of  centuries  their 
peculiar  qualities,  and  especially  the  shape  of  their  hands, 
raised  men  above  the  other  animals.  Gradually,  with 
many  doubts,  this  recognition  came  first  to  one  and  then 
another,  the  most  intelligent  and  bravest  of  the  race. 

It  took  thousands  of  centuries  before  it  was  recognised 
by  all  that  there  is  a  difference  between  men  and  animals. 
And  man  is  the  master.  But  the  darkness  and  confusion 
of  the  souls  of  animals  endured  for  long  ages  in  their 
souls,  their  terrors  were  the  terrors  of  animals ;  they 
feared  the  wind,  the  reflections  of  water,  the  darkness 
of  the  wood,  thunder  and  lightning.  Everything  around 
them  seemed  possessed  by  unknown  spirits ;  they  had  no 
knowledge  of  good  and  evil;  the  differentiation  of  being 
afraid  from  not  being  afraid,  of  strength  from  weakness, 
of  victory  from  defeat,  exhausted  their  categories. 

Wandering  in  hordes  and  tribes  from  the  centre  of  Asia, 
moving  and  propagating  themselves  like  sparrows,  grow- 
ing continually,  one  horde  constantly  displacing  another, 
they  gradually  spread  over  the  whole  face  of  the  earth, 
and  thus  came  to  different  lands  and  different  climates. 
Some  tribes  came  beneath  the  exhausting  heat  of  the 
burning  sun ;  others  to  desolate  regions ;  others  to  ice- 
bound chill,  where  they  lost  their  vitality,  succumbed,  or 
were  frozen  out  of  existence.  Many  of  these  tribes  and 


HOLYLAND  299 

peoples  perished  centuries  before  our  epoch;  others  are 
gradually  being"  exterminated  in  our  own  times  in  Aus- 
tralia, America,  and  Africa ;  others,  more  fortunate,  came 
to  regions  where  strength  and  progress  were  forced  upon 
them  by  the  pressure  of  vigorous  neighbours,  by  sun  and 
wind  and  sea,  by  barley  and  wine.  They  raised  their 
heads  higher  and  higher,  the  eyes  grew  brighter,  their 
foreheads  more  lofty.  Slowly  and  painfully  their  fear 
of  Nature  died  away.  The  bravest  among  them  went 
boldly  into  the  darkness ;  it  is  the  bravest  child  of  a 
company  of  terrified  children  alone  in  the  house  that 
ventures  into  the  dark  corner.  For  long  they  continued 
in  fear  of  ghosts  and  tried  to  placate  them  by  prayers 
and  offerings ;  very  gradually,  with  the  growth  of  man's 
power  over  Nature,  these  spirits  lost  their  terrors.  Evil 
spirits  shrank  back,  and  their  powers  dwindled,  with  the 
slow  and  gradual  growth  of  a  faint  belief  in  good  spirits. 
There  arose  a  dim,  uncertain  apprehension  that  right  was 
not  with  the  strong,  but  with  the  good.  The  inner  light 
of  conscience  burned  up,  and  as  its  rays  penetrated  the 
mist  the  path  of  mankind  was  clearer ;  they  had  a  guide, 
they  could  not  wholly  lose  their  way,  they  might  come 
further  than  our  dreams  may  know. 

But  it  was  not  the  whole  people,  not  the  masses,  that 
made  a  universal  step  in  advance;  the  light  only  shone 
in  individuals.  In  a  smooth  sea  the  waves  come  gently 
swelling  on,  grey-blue,  one  after  another,  far  out  to  sea, 
till  lo,  all  of  a  sudden  one  wave  rises  higher  than  the 
others,  leaps  up,  and  comes  on  splendid  in  its  silver  crown 
until  it  falls  over  its  own  feet.  These  men,  the  solitary 
crowned  among  mankind,  rise  like  that  wave  and  fall  even 
so,  over  their  own  feet. 

On  the  morning  of  the  race  the  steps  forward  were 
slow  and  tentative — we  do  not  know  the  earliest  names. 
The  art  of  writing  was  still  unknown,  and  it  is  only  after 
its  discovery  that  we  are  acquainted  with  the  names  of 
those  holy  heroes.  Persia  produced  Zarathustra;  China 
Confucius;  India  Buddha;  Palestine  Moses,  Elias,  Isaiah, 
Jeremiah;  Greece  .^schylus  and  Plato.  All  these  men 
stood  alone  among  their  people,  and  had  to  suffer  for 
having  advanced  beyond  their  age.  Even  in  them  there 
still  was  much  that  was  hard  and  dark,  wild  and  almost 
childishly  confused,  and  yet  in  their  hours  of  illumination 


300  HOLYLAND 

they  rose  to  a  high  and  gracious  insight  which  the  human 
spirit  can  never  outgrow.  "  I  came  not  to  hate  but  to 
love."  "  If  I  have  thee,  O  God,  earth  and  heaven  to  me 
are  naught." 

After  the  passing  of  these  men  there  came  a  time  of 
calm.  The  universe  rises  and  falls  in  waves ;  the  ex- 
hausted vital  force  produced  no  more  heroes.  Each  nation 
stood  in  rigid  silence,  holding  its  inheritance  in  its  closed 
hand,  and  while  mediocrity  grew  the  grip  closed  fast  so 
that  the  inheritance,  closed  in,  began  to  putrefy.  This 
inert  silence  lasted  for  centuries ;  on  the  ocean  of  national 
life  no  wind  blew,  no  waves  rose ;  putrefaction  seemed 
likely  to  spread  all  over  human  life. 

Then  the  sword  descended  on  the  peoples  living  round 
the  central  sea.  The  Romans,  a  people  vexed  by  no 
subtleties,  troubled  by  no  search  for  truth,  no  brooding 
over  problems,  but  devoted  to  the  practical  side  of  life, 
the  calculation  of  material  advantages,  subdued  all  other 
nations  to  their  sway ;  everywhere  they  rent  and  disturbed, 
tearing  asunder  the  old  nations  of  sensitive  dreamers, 
Egyptians,  Hebrews,  Greeks,  Persians,  Germans. 

And  in  this  wild  confusion  of  dismembered  nations  there 
arose  a  horrible  conflict  of  opinion.  There  was  a  seething 
turmoil  of  beliefs  like  the  turbulent  confluence  of  seven 
waters  in  the  stream ;  men  went  and  asked  the  philo- 
sophers for  their  opinion ;  others  abandoned  themselves  to 
the  unrestrained  transports  of  the  Greek  mystics,  crying, 
"Nature!  Nature!  O  man,  thou  art  no  more!"  to 
kneel  next  day  before  the  image  of  an  Egyptian  goddess. 
Some  raised  their  eyes  in  worship  to  the  marble  statue 
of  a  Roman  Emperor,  seeking  in  vain  for  the  holiness  of 
human  goodness  in  those  harsh  imperial  traits ;  the  men 
who  went  on  Friday  to  hear  from  the  German  soldiery 
how  they  worshipped  Baldur  and  Freya  under  the  beech 
trees  of  their  native  land,  stood  on  Saturday  with  covered 
heads  in  the  Jewish  Synagogue,  hearing  the  teacher  read 
from  the  ancient  book,  "Keep  my  commandments.  So 
shall  it  be  well  with  thee." 

This  confusion  raged  all  round  the  Mediterranean ;  from 
the  streets  of  Gibraltar  to  Persia  th,ere  was  nothing  but 
questioning  and  murmuring,  "What  is  the  meaning  of 
human  life?  What  is  the  meaning  of  God?  What  is 
truth?  Do  you  know  what  makes  a  human  heart  holy 


HOLYLAND  301 

and  joyous?  "  Thus  at  a  time  of  long  drought  country 
folk  stand  in  groups,  talking  and  arguing  together,  "  The 
rain  must  come.  .  .  .  look  at  that  cloud  !  .  .  .  no,  it  is 
nothing  " ;  then  suddenly  in  the  night,  when  their  thoughts 
are  far  away,  a  rustling  begins  to  sound  among  the  tree 
tops  in  front  of  their  windows.  Thus  men  waited  and 
talked  and  strained  their  eyes.  Man  cannot  help  search- 
ing for  the  meaning  of  life,  searching  for  happiness. 

At  last  Nature's  time  of  rest  came  to  an  end.  Its  rising 
and  falling  is  like  the  rising  and  falling  of  the  waves,  and 
now  once  more  a  man  arose,  a  hero  in  the  mould  of  the 
holy  heroes  of  old,  and  from  the  east  the  rustling  sound 
spread  over  the  withered  nations,  till  it  became  a  mighty 
roar. 

In  one  corner  of  the  huge,  motley  Empire  there  lay  a 
country  very  much  like  Schleswig-Holstein,  of  the  same 
size  and  narrow  length  and  the  same  extended  coastline; 
in  the  north  the  silent  expanse  of  heather-covered  hills, 
in  the  south  a  great  and  brilliant  town  just  as  in  our 
country.  As  in  our  country,  also,  there  dwelt  there  in  the 
villages  a  population  of  farmers,  a  mixed  race  sprung 
from  two  excellent  stocks.  It  was  an  unhappy  people, 
suffering  under  the  cruel  and  inefficient  government  of  a 
corrupt  princeling  in  the  north,  and  an  imperial  legate 
in  the  south.  Foreign  capital  devoured  the  land  as  a  wolf 
the  sheep ;  the  people  were  drained  dry  with  direct  and 
indirect  taxation,  customs  dues,  and  monopolies;  officials 
stole  and  peculated  in  all  directions ;  all  the  money,  and 
money  is  power,  was  taken  out  of  the  country. 

Then  there  was  the  Church,  with  its  extravagant  claims. 
In  the  great  capital  in  the  south  a  huge  temple  arose,  with 
vast  halls  and  courts,  lofty,  ornate  consistories,  thousands 
of  priests,  high  and  low,  and  many  teachers  attached  to 
it,  who  spread  its  tenets  through  the  land ;  all  to  be  main- 
tained at  the  popular  expense. 

The  crowning  misfortune  was  that  the  people  wds 
divided  against  itself;  there  was  a  seething  confusion  in 
politics  and  in  religion.  One  party  was  composed  of  the 
quiet  people,  dwelling  scattered  all  over  the  country, 
especially  in  the  villages  and  on  the  moors.  They  were 
men  occupied  in  laborious  manual  labour,  which  leaves 
the  mind  free  to  wander  off  into  strange  dreams  and 


302  HOLYLAND 

brooding  abstractions ;  men  occupied  in  toil  for  daily  bread 
that  left  the  soul  free  to  raise  itself  to  God.  The  Church 
was  too  cold,  stiff,  and  respectable  for  them;  they  sought 
out  some  eternal  truth  to  comfort  them  for  themselves, 
burying  themselves  after  the  day's  work  was  done  in 
ancient  records  and  prayer-books,  and  reading  there  in 
joyful  amazement  how,  in  times  of  like  necessity,  centuries 
ago,  their  parents  had  not  lost  courage,  but  had  held  fast 
to  the  belief  that  the  eternal  did  not  cherish  the  proud 
and  rich,  but  rather  the  lowly  and  humble,  and  to  them 
would  one  day  send  a  ' '  Saviour. ' '  Only  the  few  rose  to 
such  heights  of  faith ;  the  piety  of  the  majority  was  a  dull, 
uncomprehending  acceptance. 

The  second  party  was  the  Liberals,  and  they  fell  into 
two  well-defined  camps.  There  was  a  small,  highly  re- 
spectable Liberal  party  in  the  capital  composed  of  rich 
men  who,  superficially  educated,  enjoyed  the  present  and 
were  hand  and  glove  with  Church  and  State,  caring 
little  for  abstract  principles ;  the  other  was  composed  of 
men  of  an  inferior  social  grade,  minor  officials  of  the 
Empire  in  the  customs  and  police  departments,  and  the 
more  frivolous,  adventurous  sections  of  the  working 
classes,  the  energetic  men  of  aspiring  disposition. 

The  third  party  was  the  Nationalists,  by  far  the  most 
powerful,  the  party  of  narrow,  orthodox  patriotism. 
Their  programme  was  "Maintenance  of  national  religion 
and  customs  in  opposition  to  everything  foreign."  "  Pray 
seven  times  a  day,  wash  seven  times  a  day,  give  alms 
seven  times;  go  to  church  daily;  alter  nothing,  improve 
nothing;  this  is  the  way  to  please  the  Almighty.  To  re- 
ward us  He  will  send  us  a  hero,  a  '  Saviour,'  who  will  free 
us  from  the  accursed  foreign  beliefs."  Clad  in  its  rotten 
armour  this  mighty  party,  full  of  petty  and  malign  sus- 
piciousness,  stood  guard  over  what  it  considered  "  purity  " 
and  "holiness,"  inspected  all  the  prayer  meetings  and 
schools  in  the  country,  ruling  the  people  with  tyrannical 
might.  The  Liberals  resisted,  saying,  "  Live  and  let  live; 
away  with  dead  formulas  and  commandments  ";  and  the 
quiet  country  folk  resisted,  saying,  "  You  are  too  proud, 
too  narrow,  too  rigid  for  us ;  we  seek  God  after  our  own 
fashion,  reading  in  our  old,  sacred  books,  and  pondering 
in  the  night-time.  We  have  no  time  to  spend  all  day  in 
praying  and  washing  and  going  to  church ;  we  have  our 


HOLYLAND  303 

bread  to  earn."  The  Nationalists  invented  a  nickname 
to  express  their  contempt  for  these  unpatriotic  people, 
a  biting  gibe  that  hit  both  parties  :  ' '  They  are  publicans 
and  sinners." 

Over  and  above  these  three  great  parties  there  were 
swarms  of  homeless  beggars,  tramps,  and  sick  folk. 
There  were  no  physicians,  no  asylums,  no  hospitals,  no 
social  sympathy  of  any  kind.  All  the  crime,  misery,  and 
vagabondage  of  the  country  skulked  up  and  down  the 
high  roads  or  the  village  lanes,  in  front  of  the  very  doors 
of  the  rich.  The  Nationalists  cast  out  alms  as  the  creed 
bade  them,  and  bred  more  beggars. 

Such  was  the  condition  of  this  nation  by  the  sea,  a 
people  miserable  and  torn  by  opposing  factions,  tyrannised 
over  by  a  harsh  and  grasping  Government  whose  faith 
was  not  theirs. 

Forty  years  later  the  great  Nationalist  party,  sum- 
moning together  its  forces  for  a  mighty  outbreak,  roused 
the  whole  people  to  an  ill-fated  insurrection  which  ended 
in  bloody  annihilation.  The  people  survived  indeed, 
but,  as  their  hero  said,  like  a  flock  standing  in  the  night 
without  a  shepherd,  round  which  the  wild  beasts  are 
already  sharpening  their  teeth  as  they  cower  in  the  dark- 
ness. Restless,  it  cried  aloud,  "Help  must  come  .  .  . 
what  is  coming?  It  is  the  end  of  the  world  !  Is  it  the 
hero  who  has  been  promised  us  ?  Laugh  !  Let  us  eat, 
drink,  and  be  merry,  for  to-morrow  we  die.  .  .  .  Count 
up  your  resources.  .  .  .  Will  he  come  from  Heaven? 
Will  he  come  from  the  people  ?  .  .  .  Listen  !  do  you  hear 
a  rustling  in  the  trees  ?  God  our  Father,  Eternal  Power  ! 
help.  .  .  My  soul  thirsts  for  Thee,  my  body  faints  for 
Thee  in  the  scorched  and  parching  land." 

In  the  north,  on  the  moors  between  lake  and  sea,  there 
dwelt  a  man  and  his  wife,  Joseph  the  son  of  Jacob,  and 
Mary,  both  of  ancient  and  noble  though  mixed  descent. 
The  man  seems  either  to  have  died  rather  young  or 
married  somewhat  late  in  life.  His  wife  lived  to  see  her 
children  grow  up.  This  brought  her  no  distinction,  for 
it  is  a  remarkable  fact  that  this  mother  of  a  hero  seems  to 
have  had  no  comprehension  of  the  inward  greatness  of 
her  son. 

The  couple  had  five  children,  who  grew  up  in  the  fair 


304  HOLYLAND 

village,  seeing  and  learning  all  that  village  life  among 
an  intelligent  and  vigorous  race  can  afford.  The  first 
child  of  the  marriage,  Jesus  by  name,  had  a  pair  of  deep, 
clear  eyes,  which  saw  and  understood  all  the  peaceful 
pictures  presented  to  them,  a  tender  and  sympathetic  soul 
whose  inner  light,  burning  clearer  as  his  childhood  ad- 
vanced, translated  what  it  saw  into  something  of  sweet 
and  precious  significance. 

The  child  went  out  with  the  labourer  to  plough;  saw 
his  mother's  sadness  when  she  was  expecting  her 
youngest  child,  and  her  sudden  joy  when  she  held  the 
new-born  babe  in  her  arms.  With  his  companions 
he  went  up  into  the  hills  when  the  first  flowers  appeared 
in  the  fields;  they  stood  with  the  flowers  they  had 
picked  in  their  hands,  gazing  far  across  the  land  to 
the  blue  sea  in  the  west.  ...  In  the  evening  he  told 
his  mother  that  the  neighbour's  son  had  left  home  in 
anger  and  gone  out  into  strange  lands,  trouble  following 
in  his  wanton  footsteps.  He  saw  the  cornfield  on  the 
hillside  as  it  lay,  white,  ready  for  harvesting;  he  stood 
at  the  door  with  the  other  children  to  watch  the  wedding 
of  a  village  maid.  In  the  morning  he  told  his  mother 
how  the  bridesmaids  had  gone  through  the  village  at 
night  with  blazing  candles  in  their  hands.  .  .  .  He  helped 
to  bind  the  sheaves,  and  the  thistles  that  were  bound  up 
in  them  pricked  his  hands  ;  in  the  evening  of  the  same 
day,  as  he  returned  home  with  his  father,  they  heard  in 
the  street  that  the  richest  farmer  in  the  village  had  died, 
and  the  people  declared  that  he  and  his  brothers  were  bad 
men,  and  misers  to  boot.  .  .  .  He  saw  the  shepherd 
coming  through  the  village  with  his  flocks,  and  as  the 
sheep  went  slowly  on  the  shepherd  stopped  to  relate  how 
he  spent  all  night  in  searching  for  a  sheep,  and  found  it  in 
the  morning,  and  his  weather-beaten  face  beamed  with 
joy.  .  .  .  Late  in  the  evening  of  the  same  day  a  neighbour 
ran  in  to  tell  them  that  the  farmer's  wanton  son,  who  three 
years  ago  had  left  his  father's  house  and  the  village  with 
proud  words  and  headstrong  anger,  had  returned  home. 
He  had  stood  for  hours  in  the  street  in  the  darkness, 
looking  at  the  lights  in  his  father's  house,  clad  in  rags. 
"  In  such  rags  !  And  now,  what  do  you  think  .  .  .  just 
listen !  "  And  they  heard  the  sound  of  singing  and 
jubilation  in  the  village,  so  great  was  the  parents'  joy 


HOLYLAND  305 

at  his  recovery.     The  child  got  up  and  went  out  to  the 
door  to  listen  to  the  singing. 

The  town  child?  what  does  the  town  child  know  of 
the  world,  of  Nature,  of  human  life?  Only  a  wretched, 
ugly  little  corner.  The  village  child  sees  in  miniature 
the  whole  world  and  all  that  in  it  is. 

He  was  a  shy,  thoughtful  child ;  he  stood  aside  and 
looked  on  at  life  with  quiet,  wondering  eyes.  He  played 
with  the  other  children,  but  it  often  happened  that  almost 
involuntarily  he  would  step  aside  from  the  gay  throng  as 
if  some  invisible  voice  had  said  earnestly  to  him,  "  Stand 
aside  a  little." 

The  child's  eyes  became  quieter  and  quieter;  veil  after 
veil  sank  down  over  them ;  but  in  his  soul  there  was 
no  darkness ;  the  more  the  outer  world  faded  away 
there  burned  up  in  his  soul  a  still,  bright  light  that  filled 
it  wondrously  with  its  glowing  purity  and  gracious 
warmth.  Happy,  sad,  the  childish  soul  stood  in  the  holy 
hall,  before  the  lofty  doors  that  soon  would  open,  and 
' '  now — now — soon  I  shall  see  the  radiance  of  Heaven. ' ' 
Then  the  children  came  and  waked  him,  saying  to  one 
another,  "Jesus  is  dreaming  again;  look,  he  is  lost  in 
dreams."  He  came  back  to  the  others,  his  eyes  still 
misty  with  the  sweet  remembrance,  his  face  bearing  the 
traces  of  a  gentle  sadness. 

Every  Sunday  as  boy  and  youth  he  stood  among  the 
other  villagers  in  the  village  school  and  meeting-room,  to 
listen  to  an  earnest  teacher,  who  read  with  slow  solemnity 
from  the  old  chronicles  and  psalms ;  a  Nationalist  and 
clerical,  he  read  out  God's  many  commandments  with 
brows  sternly  knit,  "Thou  shalt  .  .  .  Thou  shalt  .  .  . 
If  thou  dost  so-and-so,  thou  shalt  please  God " 

The  boy  listened  in  shy  bewilderment.  .  .  .  Then  the 
teacher  laid  aside  the  book  and  took  up  another,  and  the 
voice  of  the  gloomy,  serious  man  warmed  and  his  eyes 
burned  as  he  read  of  the  heroes  who  had  arisen  of  old 
among  the  people  as  the  birds  rise  out  of  the  heather; 
how  they  brooded  alone,  searching  for  an  answer  to  the 
weary  riddle  of  human  life,  the  riddle  of  birth  and  death, 
God  and  conscience,  guilt  and  justice,  seeking  a  way  by 
which  a  tender  human  soul  might  win  its  way  through 
life  without  sorrow  or  punishment.  Some  of  these  brood- 
ing heroes  did  force  a  way  through  night  and  terror,  but 


306  HOLYLAND 

not  by  their  own  unaided  strength.  Children  run  fearfully 
through  the  darkness,  terrified,  with  such  beating  hearts, 
till  at  last  they  find  themselves  in  their  mother's  out- 
stretched arms,  where  for  a  while  they  sob  stormily, 
terrified  by  their  own  daring,  till,  their  terror  subsiding, 
they  laugh  again.  Like  them,  these  heroes  rushed  in 
blind  and  eager  confidence  on  their  adventurous  search 
for  truth  and  faith  to  the  feet  of  the  Eternal  Reality,  and 
there  cried,  "  Eternal  Reality,  we  believe  that  Thou  art 
goodness. "  From  this  glorious  citadel  they  speak  to  their 
people  with  a  glowing  courage  shining  in  their  eyes,  tell 
them  of  the  misery  of  godlessness,  of  the  great  goodness 
of  God,  of  the  glorious  hope  of  wondrous  help  from  God, 
and  of  the  Saviour  who  was  to  come  and  purify  and  bless 
the  land. 

As  the  boy  listened  to  these  stories  of  the  holy  heroes 
his  pure  young  heart  swelled  with  a  secret  and  lofty  joy. 
' '  Thou  shalt  ..."  was  forgotten ;  fear  was  fled ;  far 
into  the  night  he  beheld  in  dreams  the  brave  and  holy 
heroes,  with  their  passionate  belief  in  the  goodness  of 
God,  their  passionate  love  for  their  unhappy  people,  and 
the  Saviour  to  come,  the  bravest  and  purest  of  them  all : 
till  he  fell  asleep,  his  cheeks  glowing  with  happiness. 

There  were  in  the  village  a  number  of  upright,  unlet- 
tered families  who  belonged  to  the  quiet  country  party, 
and  probably  his  parents  were  among  them.  His  tender 
spirit  drank  in  the  ancient  beliefs,  the  ancient  dreams  that 
he  heard  his  parents  and  their  neighbours  discussing. 
They  spoke  of  God,  who  dwelt  above  in  the  blue  realms 
of  Heaven  surrounded  by  good  angels ;  of  the  devil, 
banished  to  the  remotest  corner  behind  the  heavy  grey 
clouds  on  the  northern  verge  of  the  sky,  with  his  company 
of  bad  angels.  Mortal  destiny  depends  on  the  fortune 
of  the  war  raging  day  and  night  between  God  and  His 
satellites  and  the  devil  and  his ;  all  sickness  and  madness 
comes  from  the  evil  spirits ;  how  they  plague  the  sick 
people  in  the  village !  Seven  spirits  or  angels  sent  by 
the  devil  lodge  within  the  maniac  living  at  the  far  end 
of  the  village  with  his  parents ;  it  is  they  who  make  him 
utter  the  shrieks  that  resound  through  the  streets.  A 
time  will  come  when  all  this  shall  be  changed ;  some  day 
there  will  be  an  end  of  all  sorrow  and  trouble  caused  by 
strangers  and  by  evil  spirits.  The  Saviour  will  come — 


HOLYLAND  307 

the  greatest  of  all  the  holy  heroes.  Some  say  he  is  to 
be  an  angel  and  fall  down  from  Heaven ;  others  he  is  to 
be  a  man  descended  from  some  ancient,  impoverished 
royal  house.  With  the  help  of  God  he  will  set  up  the 
rule  of  God  upon  earth  all  over  the  land,  from  the  moor 
villages  of  the  north  to  the  capital  in  the  south.  Then 
the  people  will  be  free  and  holy  and  happy. 

Thus  the  boy  heard  all  the  beliefs  held  by  the  Church 
and  among  the  people  in  this  time  of  trouble  and  disquiet. 
And  he  criticised  them  all,  yet,  till  the  day  of  his  death, 
he  never  despised  or  cast  away  a  single  belief  or  super- 
stition. Like  his  people  and  his  times,  he  lived  in  a 
world  of  wonders.  For  him,  too,  angels  descended  from 
Heaven  all  his  life  long.  He  saw  the  devil  fall  like  a 
flash  of  lightning;  he  believed  that  Satanic  emissaries 
possessed  the  insane  and  the  diseased.  He  believed  that 
with  the  help  of  God  or  of  the  devil,  man  could  perform 
superhuman  actions ;  the  dead  could  rise  from  the  earth 
and  walk. 

But  there  was  a  trait  of  greatness  in  this  growing 
son  of  man,  a  gift  that  marked  him  out,  and  this  it 
was.  He  comprehended  in  the  music  of  his  nature 
all  the  notes  sounded  by  the  words  of  people  and  by  the 
ancient  books,  but  one  supreme  note  rose  in  him,  sound- 
ing clearer,  stronger  year  by  year,  sounding  pure  and 
strong  and  penetrating  above  all  other  notes,  dominat- 
ing and  subduing  all  other  notes — the  note  that  had 
ceased  to  sound  among  his  people  in  his  time,  the 
note  that  had  not  yet  been  struck  by  other  nations, 
the  note  which  the  holy  heroes  of  old  had  comprehended 
and  to  which  they  had  responded,  "  Let  me  rejoice  in 
Thy  grace  that  Thou  hast  seen  my  tribulation  and  hast 
troubled  Thyself  for  the  need  of  my  soul." 

His  real  heroism  lay  in  this,  that  in  a  time  of  dull 
acquiescence,  of  sordid  ideals,  and  confused  aims,  he  had 
held  up  a  high  and  lofty  belief  in  the  goodness  of  God, 
and  died  for  this  belief  in  the  freshness  of  his  youth.  .  .  . 

As  yet,  however,  he  is  only  a  boy,  a  youth,  uncertain 
of  himself,  cherishing  in  wondering  doubt  and  bewilder- 
ment his  profound  and  marvellous  thoughts. 

Then  came  early  youth.  He  learned  a  craft  in  the 
village.  He  became  a  carpenter  and  left  the  village. 
Wandering  through  the  valley,  down  the  dry  river-bed, 

X    2 


3o8  HOLYLAND 

he  saw  the  ruins  of  the  houses  which  had  been  torn  up 
by  the  last  earthquake;  then,  reaching  the  sea-beach,  he 
saw  the  pearl-fishers'  boats  dancing  on  the  surge,  while 
the  merchant  stood  on  the  bank  with  his  purse  to  see 
what  they  had  caught.  He  passed  through  the  poverty- 
stricken  moorland  villages  to  the  inland  lake ;  standing 
before  the  castle  that  the  evil  princeling  had  built,  he 
heard  the  complaints  of  the  unhappy  people  of  his  cruelty 
and  of  his  ruling  vice;  he  saw  the  countless  numbers  of 
the  homeless  poor,  the  sick  and  the  insane  lying  in  the 
streets,  crowds  of  soldiers  and  officials  railing  agaiust 
them  at  the  street  corners.  He  took  a  three  days'  journey 
with  some  of  the  villagers  down  the  huge  temple  in  the 
capital.  There,  in  the  midst  of  the  hungry  misery  of 
the  people,  he  saw  respectable  Liberals,  princes  of  the 
Church,  going  in  their  silken  raiment  to  a  rich  banquet 
given  by  the  foreign  governor.  At  the  street  corners 
stood  the  Nationalists  in  grave  mourning  garments.  The 
people  followed  blindly,  filling  the  churches,  gabbling  the 
prayers,  giving  the  rich  priests  their  poor  savings. 

On  their  way  home  the  peasants  discussed  whether  the 
Nationalists  were  right  in  saying  that  the  stipulated  gifts 
must  be  made  to  the  priests,  even  though  one's  own 
aged  parents  perished  of  starvation,  for  God  and  His 
commandments  come  before  filial  love ;  whether  it  were 
really  God's  will  that  one  should  not  move  a  finger  on 
the  Sabbath,  even  to  help  man  or  beast  in  trouble.  Could 
God  be  so  petty  and  so  jealous?  They  pondered  deeply 
over  this  as  they  went  their  way,  till  suddenly  one  of  the 
quietists  struck  up  an  old  song  in  a  quivering  voice, 
"To  Thee  I  raise  my  eyes,  Thou  throned  in  Heaven; 
behold,  as  the  eyes  of  the  servant  are  directed  to  the 
hand  of  the  Master,  our  eyes  look  up  to  God,  till  such 
time  as  He  has  mercy  upon  us." 

He  returned  to  the  village  in  silence.  In  the  home  of 
his  parents  he  dwelt  quietly,  busy  with  his  craft,  building 
and  repairing  houses  in  the  village.  His  eager  eyes 
regarded  his  craft  and  all  that  Nature  and  life  presented 
to  him,  but  they  did  not  stay,  caught  like  fish  In  a  net, 
but,  penetrating  like  the  rays  of  the  sun  through  all  ap- 
pearances, reached  their  inner  cause,  the  secret  and  eternal 
power  behind  them.  He  found  joy  in  the  waving  field  of 
wheat,  in  the  lily  blossoming  on  the  pond,  in  the  young 


HOLY  LAND  309 

girl  standing  at  the  door;  but  he  left  them,  with  no 
thought  of  touching  or  gathering  them.  All  phenomena 
were  to  him  merely  a  symbol  of  the  eternal  power  that 
lay  behind  them,  dark  and  obscure.  "  Thou  art  all  good- 
ness and  love.  If  only  all  men  could  share  my  belief,  my 
happiness  !  Eternal  Power,  what  am  I  ?  what  are  my 
thoughts?  Send  soon  the  holy  Saviour.  Great  is  the 
need  of  my  people." 

The  people  in  the  village  said,  "  He  is  a  strange  man, 
full  of  profound  wisdom,  of  holy  earnestness,  as  innocent 
as  a  babe  at  the  breast."  They  saw  and  knew  no  more. 
They  did  not  guess  that  behind  those  pure  and  limpid 
eyes  lay  a  soul  that  grew  every  day  in  depth  and  insight. 
He  himself  knew  it  not.  He  was  a  poor,  restless  son  of 
man,  now  thrilling  with  joy,  again  with  unspeakable  fears, 
shaken  by  godlike  thoughts,  a  genius  in  being. 

Time  passed  on  ...  he  reached  his  thirtieth  year. 
People  in  the  village  would  ask  his  advice  in  difficult 
matters,  but  he  only  cast  his  eyes  down,  deep  in  thought; 
answering  came  hardly  to  him.  A  few  wise,  patient  men 
in  the  village  think  and  say,  "  What  will  become  of  him? 
Let  him  be  !  only  wait ;  some  day  he  will  soar  aloft  like 
the  eagle."  Others  shake  their  heads  and  say,  "What 
is  he?  A  queer  creature,  that's  all." 

His  hour  is  not  yet  come;  soul  and  spirit  are  not  yet 
clear.  God  is  still  forging  and  hammering.  Of  the  old 
heroes  it  was  said,  "  I  make  thee  to  be  a  pillar  of  iron 
and  a  wall  of  brass  against  the  whole  land,  against  its 
Government,  against  its  Church,  against  the  whole 
population;  "  for  he  must  be  hard,  must  indeed  be  of 
iron,  who  is  to  stand  alone  against  the  whole  people. 

The  whole  land  was  oppressed  and  restless,  a  heavy 
burden  lay  upon  their  souls,  they  were  bound  down  to 
poverty  and  madness.  Leaden  clouds  stretched  from  the 
sea  to  the  lake,  from  the  heather  hills  of  the  north  to  the 
great  town  of  the  south.  Once,  twice,  the  flame  sprang 
high  in  the  woods  or  on  the  moors.  Some  eager, 
desperate  spirit  appeared.  "  I  ...  I  am  the  Saviour  ! 
Arise,  my  people,  arise!  "  The  Government  stamped  the 
fire  out  with  fierce  imprecations,  then  drew  their  breath 
hard.  "When  will  help  come  to  the  parching  land? 
Now,  or  never.  Go  out,  child,  see  whether  the  storm  is 
rising." 


3io  HOLYLAND 

' '  There  is  nothing,  father. ' ' 

Then  the  first  peal  of  heavy  thunder  broke  over  the 
land. 

In  the  south,  not  far  from  the  capital,  a  man  arose,  a 
man  like  one  of  the  old,  holy  heroes  sprung  from  the 
despairing  people.  He  stood  and  spoke.  What  he  spoke 
was  half-despair,  half-laughing  gladness. 

' '  People  !  people  !  hear  what  I  say.  Have  we  reached 
the  end  of  life  and  of  every  hope?  Does  our  need  reach 
up  to  our  throats?  Then — you  know  how  the  old  books 
run,  "  From  an  old  decaying  royal  stem  shall  shoot  out  a 
young  branch.  Come  he  must  ...  he  comes  !  Look  ! 
He  is  quite  near.  He  comes  !  a  man  of  wondrous  powers, 
the  power  of  God  within  him  !  the  angels  of  God  on  his 
right  hand  and  on  his  left.  He  will  harry  and  slay  the 
oppressors  and  carry  terror  among  the  people.  The 
Nationalists,  with  their  self-satisfied  piety;  the  Liberals, 
smooth  and  silky,  who  sit  in  church  and  at  the  court; 
all  the  lying  hypocrites  who  live  in  luxury  and  care  nothing 
for  the  wretchedness  of  the  people,  who  lay  heavy  burdens 
on  the  people  as  if  such  were  the  commandments  of  God, 
while  they  themselves  do  not  stir  a  finger ;  they  load  their 
country's  land  with  debt,  devour  its  houses,  and  pray  all  the 
time  without  ceasing ;  all  these  people  are  an  abomination 
to  the  Lord  and  to  His  Messenger.  He  will  destroy  them 
all.  And  when  He  has  done  all  this,  when  He  has  driven 
forth  the  enemy  and  slain  those  who  ruin  the  people,  then 
the  others,  the  oppressed,  the  quiet  people  of  the  country, 
shall  dwell  in  peace  and  happiness  in  a  land  purified  and 
free,  He  their  glorious  King,  they  His  free  and  gladsome 
people.  .  .  .  Where  are  ye,  ye  poor  and  pure  in  heart? 
How  few  ye  are,  my  people  !  Hark  !  He  comes  !  Purify 
your  souls  !  Away  with  all  evil  from  heart  and  life ! 
Hark  !  the  steps  of  the  Son  of  God  !  " 

So  he  spoke  in  broken  words,  spoke  to  a  despairing 
people.  So  the  alarums  ring  out  before  the  break  of  day 
over  the  army  lying  in  uneasy  sleep  on  the  battlefield 
opposite  the  foe.  The  whole  people  heard  his  voice. 

The  Liberals  laughed.  "Live  and  let  live!"  The 
proud  Church  party  stared.  "What?  the  Saviour  is  to 
come  as  our  enemy?  What  a  fool  the  man  is  !  "  All  the 
quiet,  unhappy  people  in  the  land  leapt  up.  ' '  What  a 


HOLYLAND  311 

note  is  that !  What  does  he  say  ?  Misery  at  an  end  ?  ' ' 
and  they  went  to  him  in  crowds.  And  the  clear  note 
penetrated  to  the  silent  depths  of  that  divinely  quickened 
soul  dwelling  in  the  quiet  northern  village,  to  Jesus  the 
carpenter.  ' '  What  does  he  say  ?  The  piety  which  the 
Church  teaches  is  false?  God  wants  pure,  holy  men.  .  .  . 
Yes,  these  are  they  whom  He  wants." 

At  night  in  autumn  a  storm  rises  in  the  western  sea, 
comes  over  to  land  with  a  roar,  expends  its  first  head- 
long onset  in  vain  against  the  high,  thick  beeches  round 
the  woodland  pond.  Foiled,  it  pauses  for  a  moment,  to 
dash  with  concentrated  force  against  the  stubborn  resist- 
ance of  the  trees ;  as  they  crash  to  the  ground  it  throws 
itself  upon  the  pool,  lashing  and  torturing  it.  Such  a 
storm  now  arose  in  the  depths  of  his  silent  soul.  "  What 
does  he  say?  the  long-promised  Saviour  is  coming  now? 
now?  now  the  great  wonder  is  to  be?  the  people  is  to 
be  free  and  happy  !  now?  yes,  now  !  Our  need  is  at  our 
throats.  Yes,  he  is  coming  now.  I  will  go  and  see  the 
man." 

And  so  the  quiet  young  master  laid  aside  hammer  and 
measure.  As  he  went  the  Eternal  Power  glowed  and 
worked  within  him.  "  The  Saviour  is  coming.  .  .  . 
What  does  he  look  like?  What  will  he  be  like?  God 
and  the  spirits  of  goodwill  work  powerfully  within  him." 

When  he  reached  his  destination  on  the  evening  of  the 
second  day  he  found  crowds  gathered  together  from  all 
directions,  from  west  and  east,  from  the  great  town  in 
the  south  and  the  moors  in  the  north.  An  ill-treated, 
confused,  and  despairing  people,  betrayed  and  cheated  by 
King  and  Church.  They  looked  up  to  the  one  strong  man 
who  spoke  to  them  of  the  downfall  of  the  King  and  of  the 
rich  and  of  the  pious  Church  party,  and  foretold  the  time 
of  bliss  at  hand  for  all  who  were  free  from  sin.  ' '  The 
Saviour,  the  Messenger  from  God  is  at  hand ;  in  one  hand 
he  holds  death,  in  the  other  a  happy  life  in  a  free  land." 
Thousands  came  to  him,  and,  kneeling  down  in  the  stream 
that  flowed  in  its  bed  of  white  sand  down  into  the  valley, 
vowed,  with  his  hands  upon  their  heads,  "  Our  souls  shall 
be  as  pure  as  the  water,  as  clean  as  the  white  sand,  so 
that  we  may  dwell  in  a  pure  and  happy  land  under  the 
holy  hero,  we  who  now  are  meek,  lowly,  and  oppressed." 

This  sight,  this  supreme  moment,  made  a  deep  impres- 


3i2  HOLYLAND 

sion  on  the  northern  peasant;  his  soul,  freed  from  the 
dangers  which  has  beset  it  among  the  silent  moors,  of 
distraction  by  visionary  dreaming  or  restless  wandering 
from  its  true  course,  was  roused  at  once  to  insight  and 
to  action.  "What  does  he  say?  .  .  .  Pure  men 
are  to  live  in  a  pure  land?  How  can  a  man  be- 
come pure?  He  does  not  know.  No  one  knows. 
Do  I  know?  .  .  .  Do  I  know?  .  .  .  The  pure  life? 
Yes.  I  can  point  the  way  .  .  .  have  I  not  borne  that 
knowledge  in  my  soul  since  I  was  a  child?  Have  I 
not  always  seen  Thee,  holy  and  everlasting  power,  as 
Fatherly  love?  I  have  been  Thy  child  since  I  could 
think  at  all ;  Thy  child,  loving,  pure,  beloved.  In  com- 
munion with  Thee  all  sin  is  wiped  away.  The  kingdom 
of  Heaven  is  at  hand.  Happiness  is  at  hand  for  my  poor 
people.  Yes,  it  is  at  hand  .  .  .  now  it  must  come.  Help, 
O  Father,  that  Thy  Kingdom  come !  Bring  all  Thy 
people  to  Thy  knees  pure  and  happy  as  I  am  !  Father, 
what  am  I  to  do?  where  is  the  Saviour?  Father,  who 
is  he?  Father,  show  him  to  me.  .  .  .  Father,  who  is 
he?" 

Overcome  by  the  waves  of  thought  and  feeling  that 
surged  through  his  soul,  he  knelt  down  in  the  white  sand 
among  the  others,  seeming  in  that  action  utterly  to 
abrogate  his  will  and  to  hand  over  his  whole  being  in 
passionate  self-surrender  into  the  hands  of  the  sacred  and 
everlasting  Power  above  him.  "  I  am  Thine,  my  will  is 
Thine;  my  Father,  who  art  goodness  and  truth.  ..." 
and  in  a  moment  of  rapt  and  wholly  blissful  ecstasy  he 
seemed  to  feel  and  to  hear  that  the  Eternal  Power,  his 
"Father  in  Heaven,"  accepted  this  passionate  surrender 
of  his  pure  will.  "  Thou  art  my  beloved  son,  in  whom  I 
am  well  pleased." 

He  arose  and  stepped  back.  That  night  he  stayed  in 
the  district ;  in  the  new  and  rapturous  illumination  of 
joyous  thoughts  and  sublime  presentiments  he  understood 
clearly  the  vague  misery,  the  singing  joy  of  his  child- 
hood. "  I  am  a  prophet,  a  herald  of  eternal  truth  like 
the  holy  heroes  of  old  !  A  messenger  from  God.  Happi- 
ness is  coming  to  my  poor  people :  the  Kingdom  of 
Heaven  !  it  is  at  hand.  I  announce  it,  I  His  messenger ! 
the  last  of  His  messengers,  the  Saviour?  " 

Next     morning    he    set    out     northwards.     For    two, 


HOLYLAND  313 

three,  hours  he  walked  till  his  homeward  way  brought 
him  into  a  lonely  and  desolate  region.  Here  the 
lofty  feelings  that  had  surged  up  in  him  sank,  and 
as  he  wandered  over  the  barren  moor  his  heart  became 
heavier  and  heavier  at  every  step.  At  last  he  stood 
still,  brooding.  "  When  I  reach  home  to-morrow  even- 
ing, I,  who  have  always  been  so  shy  and  silent, 
must  stand  up  and  say :  '  Purify  your  hearts,  purify 
your  lives ;  the  Kingdom  of  Heaven  is  at  hand.  .  .  . ' 
They  are  all  expecting  a  holy  hero  who  shall  free  us  with 
sword  and  word  from  the  foreign  yoke.  '  Out  with  your 
swords !  '  That  I  cannot  do.  God's  voice  has  never 
said  that  to  me.  Or  can  I  ?  I  am  the  wisest  in  the  land ; 
I  have  power  over  men ;  shall  I  announce  what  will  please 
them?  Shall  I  alter  a  little  what  God  says  within  me? 
What  I  have  to  say  to  them  is  too  lofty,  too  sacred.  .  .  . 
The  quiet,  yes ;  but  my  mother ;  my  brothers ;  all  the 
rich  men  of  the  village  !  The  Nationalists  and  the  Prince  ! 
The  first  will  be  suspicious ;  the  second  will  threaten ;  and 
the  Prince  will  have  me  put  in  prison.  ...  So  I  must 
alter  it  a  little ;  I  must  alter  it.  I  will  clothe  myself  in 
gorgeous  raiment,  miracles,  and  splendid  deeds,  and 
then  say,  '  I  am  the  Saviour  !  Sword  in  hand  !  '  and  then 
the  people  will  rally  round  me.  .  .  .  No,  no,  you  spirits 
of  evil  .  .  .  avaunt,  messengers  of  Satan.  ...  I  will 
listen  to  God  alone." 

The  day  passed  and  night  descended ;  he  cowered  at 
the  edge  of  the  cliff,  a  poor,  lonely  man,  tortured  by 
hideous  doubt,  a  man  in  the  bitterest  extremity  of  need. 

He  prays,  and  strength  comes  to  him  for  a  moment ;  but 
again  his  courage  sinks ;  he  prays  again,  begging  his 
"Father  in  Heaven"  to  give  him  strength  and  light. 
He  begs,  "  Show  me  the  truth.  Tell  me,  shall  I  help 
my  people  with  Thy  sword  and  Thy  word,  or  with  Thy 
word  alone?  "  All  night  his  soul  sought  for  a  way  of 
escape  like  a  caged  wild  beast  that  ramps  restlessly  up 
and  down,  glaring  in  vain  at  the  bars  through  which  he 
cannot  pass. 

Later  he  told  his  friends,  and  they  believed  what  had 
become  a  part  of  the  popular  faith  that  Satan,  the 
ruler  of  the  evil  spirits,  appearing  from  the  darkest  quarter 
of  Heaven,  stood  by  his  side  and  said  to  him,  "  Add 
something  of  earth  to  the  pure  work  of  God." 


314  HOLYLAND 

His  fear  of  others,  his  vanity,  all  his  sensual  desires 
fought  with  a  strong  man's  strength  against  that  stronger 
part  of  him  that  was  pure  and  holy.  All  day  the  struggle 
lasted.  At  times  he  turned  to  go  northwards,  and  then, 
shrinking  back,  he  turned  again  on  to  the  moor.  Often 
he  was  in  great  danger  of  betraying  his  Father  in  Heaven 
and  returning  home  the  same  quiet  craftsman  that  he 
had  left  it,  save  that  his  soul  was  rent  asunder  and  his 
inner  life  desolated  by  the  reproachful  voice  of  conscience. 
Often  he  came  near  to  adding  something  of  earth,  "  Out 
with  your  swords  !  I  am  the  holy  leader  whom  God  has 
promised  you. ' '  The  whole  future  of  humanity  depended 
on  the  purity  of  soul,  the  courage,  and  the  truth  of  a 
single  man. 

But  he  was  very  brave.  He  was  so  stainless,  so  pure. 
He  thought  of  the  rapture  of  the  momentary  communion 
of  his  soul  with  God.  In  passionate  prayer  he  clung  to 
the  knees  of  his  Father  in  Heaven ;  and  He  helped  him. 
Certainly  the  Eternal  was  by  his  side.  Yet  the  work  was 
his  own;  it  is  him  we  must  thank,  Jesus,  the  northern 
carpenter ;  it  is  He  who  helped  mankind.  At  last  he  arose 
victorious.  "  I  will  do  Thy  work  and  Thine  alone,  with- 
out the  sword,  without  any  earthly  help.  I  will  believe 
and  not  doubt;  Thy  blessed  kingdom  is  at  hand,  and  I 
must  raise  it  without  the  help  of  the  sword.  I  leave  it 
to  Thee  to  show  me  in  Thy  own  good  time  whether  I 
am  indeed  the  Saviour.  Help  me,  O  Father  in  Heaven." 

'fhen,  he  said,  he  was  made  strong.  Angels  from 
Heaven  stood  round  him,  and  fear  was  gone  from  him. 
Drawing  a  long,  deep  breath,  he  went  northwards  with 
no  more  doubt  in  his  heart.  His  will  was  now  at  rest, 
desiring  only  to  do  the  pure  and  gracious  will  of  God. 
"  I  will  do  Thy  will,  announce  the  coming  of  Thy  king- 
dom and  Thy  rule  in  my  country,  troubling  myself  not 
at  all  about  other  men."  He  went  north. 

The  report  followed  him,  "The  Baptist  has  been  put 
in  prison  by  the  duke;  he  is  to  die  at  the  hangman's 
hand."  But  all  fear  was  gone  from  him.  He  stands 
there  pure  and  free,  in  his  hands  the  purest  task  in  the 
world,  close  to  the  Eternal  Power,  close  to  his  "  Father 
in  Heaven." 

In  two  days  he  reached  his  native  district.     Avoiding 


HOLYLAND  315 

his  own  village  he  made  his  first  appearance  as  a  preacher 
in  a  village  that  lay  to  the  east  of  it.  He  rose  without  any 
doubt  or  any  fear,  his  eyes  shining  with  joy  and  the 
authority  of  the  Eternal,  which  said  to  him,  "Arise! 
speak  !  Thou  art  My  dear  son.  Speak  !  It  is  My  will 
that  thou  sayest  what  thou  sayest  and  dost  what  thou 
dost." 

The  eagle  now  began  to  fly.  He  arose,  and  for  the 
first  time  went  up  to  the  desk  and  opened  the  ancient 
chronicle ;  and  as  they  looked  at  him  they  saw  this  was 
no  dry  teacher,  but  a  man  whose  deepest  soul  was  stirred 
and  possessed  by  the  spirit  of  God.  He  read  the  place 
where  it  is  written  :  "  The  spirit  of  the  Lord  is  upon 
me.  Because  he  anointed  me  to  preach  good  tidings  to 
the  poor ;  He  hath  sent  me  to  proclaim  release  to  the 
captives,  and  recovering  of  sight  to  the  blind,  to  set  at 
liberty  them  that  are  bruised,  to  proclaim  the  acceptable 
year  of  the  Lord." 

Laying  the  book  down  he  drew  a  deep  breath,  and  said, 
"  The  ancient  scripture  is  being  fulfilled  now,  now.  Poor, 
oppressed  people,  the  promised  time  of  happiness  is  come ; 
the  kingdom  of  Heaven  is  beginning  among  us.  Give 
yourselves  to  Him  and  be  His  children,  and  all  the 
shadows  that  weigh  on  human  life  will  disappear,  all  of 
them;  evil  conscience,  sorrow,  death  itself.  In  the  light 
of  happiness  human  life  will  be  as  resplendent  as  the 
halls  of  God.  Give  yourselves  to  Him  !  be  His  children  ! 
The  kingdom  of  Heaven  is  at  hand,  the  blessed  time  of 
which  the  prophets  spake  is  at  hand.  Listen,  believe 
my  words,  and  rejoice." 

So  he  spake,  and  the  poor,  the  trembling,  the  oppressed 
marvelled  and  rejoiced.  He  went  on  his  way  from  place 
to  place,  avoiding  his  native  village,  and  his  long  years 
of  silent,  lonely  pondering  had  taught  him  to  understand 
the  ground  tones  of  human  life.  All  day  his  heart  ached 
with  a  passion  of  pity  for  the  misery  and  need  where  all 
might  have  been  sweetness,  and  found  no  rest  for  the 
anguish  of  his  compassion.  "  I  must  cleanse  my  people 
so  that  they  may  find  that  bliss  in  the  nearness  of  God 
which  has  been  mine  since  my  childhood."  The  whole 
day  he  was  filled  with  the  immovable  courage  that  inspired 
the  early  heroes.  "  I  will  make  it  come  to  pass,  I  will 
conquer  my  brethren  and  make  them  approach  God  in 


316  HOLYLAND 

the  joyful  spirit  which  is  mine.  The  soul  is  made  for 
goodness,  its  nature  is  divine;  it  must  succeed  in  casting 
forth  Satan  and  his  friends.  A  storm  shall  blow  through 
the  land  and  set  the  people  free  from  evil;  the  good  shall 
conquer  and  convince  the  evil ;  the  eager  shall  carry  the 
sluggish  with  them ;  the  quiet  overcome  the  cold-hearted 
pietists.  God  and  His  angels  shall  rule  over  the  people; 
under  His  protection  they  shall  be  pure  and  happy,  freed 
from  sin  and  sorrow,  each  man  under  his  own  roof  tree." 

Such  was  his  faith,  his  love,  his  hope :  and  he 
announced  it  in  words  like  morning  dew  or  the  water  of 
a  deep  and  sparkling  spring,  to  a  people  of  quick  under- 
standing, deep  piety,  and  ancient  race,  who  looked  back 
from  the  desperate  misery  of  the  present  to  the  glory  of 
the  past  and  yearned  for  freedom  and  happiness.  It  was 
natural  that  he  roused  them.  Excitement  spread  all 
through  the  northern  district,  his  passage  from  village  to 
village  was  like  a  bridal  train.  Downcast  eyes  looked  up  : 
they  began  to  sing  and  hum  in  voices  that  had  lost 
their  music  through  long  disuse.  Once  more  men  talked 
of  great  questions  at  their  doors  and  by  the  fireside  :  these 
were  great  times  when  they  talked  of  their  God,  of  their 
souls,  of  their  country.  Stir  and  excitement  took  the 
place  of  the  old  lassitude. 

The  quiet  men  were  well  pleased  with  him.  "  He  doesn't 
count  off  on  his  fingers  what  one  has  to  do,  and  what  one 
is  allowed  to  do.  Seven  times  seven  :  and  you  may  eat  this 
and  you  may  not  do  that,  and  on  the  Sabbath,  so  and  so. 
Who  can  attend  to  all  these  commandments  ?  He  speaks 
the  one  simple  truth,  '  Give  thy  soul  to  thy  Father  in 
Heaven  and  to  thy  fellow-men  .  .  .  then,  thou  art 
blessed.1" 

And  in  the  evening  the  fishers  were  sitting  and  stand- 
ing on  the  shore  beside  their  boats  :  they  had  listened  to 
him  and  seen  him.  "  Simon  .  .  why  have  you  sat 
all  day  without  saying  a  word,  staring,  you  who  are  the 
most  lively  of  all  as  a  rule?  What  do  you  say  to  the 
man?  "  Simon  got  up  from  the  edge  of  the  boat,  his 
lips  trembling,  and  his  eyes  fixed  on  the  ground. 
"  Brother,  look  after  my  boat  and  my  nets.  .  .  .  To  give 
one's  soul  to  God ;  to  have  one's  life  filled  with  love  and 
truth.  .  .  Blessed  is  the  man  who  goes  with  him.  .  I  will 
follow  him  and  be  always  by  his  side." 


HOLYLAND  317 

The  small  officials  surrounded  him  :  he  was  their  man. 
The  Nationalists  said  to  them  :  "  Pray  seven  times,  wash, 
and  lay  down  your  office.  If  you  don't  do  this  and  that 
you  are  sinners,  outcasts,  foredoomed  to  Hell."  He  did 
not  so.  He  did  not  rebuke  :  he  did  not  curse.  He  showed 
them  the  happiness  of  a  soul  relying  in  love  on  the  good- 
ness of  God.  "It  is  a  light  yoke  and  a  soft  burden  in- 
deed. How  heavy  in  comparison  are  the  commandments 
of  the  Church,  the  misdeeds,  the  evil  conscience,  the 
anxiety,  the  struggle  for  existence.  The  burden  of  a  life 
far  from  God  is  too  heavy  for  mortal  shoulders  to  bear  : 
but  we  can  bear  it  with  a  brave  and  innocent  heart  if  one 
rests  like  a  child  against  the  knees  of  God.  And  after- 
wards comes  the  Kingdom  of  God." 

When  they  heard  this  they  rejoiced  and  said  unto 
another:  "  What  can  one  say  to  that?  It's  the  absolute 
truth.  What  do  you  say,  Matthew,  you  brooder,  what 
do  you  think  of  it?  "  The  same  evening  he  saw  Matthew 
sitting  at  his  desk  in  his  publican's  office,  and,  as  he 
passed,  cast  a  long  look  towards  him  :  a  look  that  went 
through  and  through  the  man,  so  that  he  rose  slowly  to 
his  feet,  compelled  by  those  wonderful  eyes  and  the  force 
of  that  spotless  goodness,  and,  taking  up  his  cloak, 
he  followed  him  with  blanched  face. 

All  the  sick  who  had  lain  in  misery,  often  from  their 
childhood  on,  in  the  houses  of  their  relatives ;  all  those 
who  had  been  driven  from  their  homes  by  melancholy,  or 
ill-weaved  ambition,  by  the  visions  of  madness  or  the 
grip  of  infectious  disease,  and  dwelt  apart  in  deserted  and 
ruinous  hovels — all  these — and  there  were  thousands  of 
them — came  in  wild  excitement.  All  believed  that  for 
some  sin  they  had  committed  they  were  now  inhabited  by 
emissaries  of  Satan.  To  them,  the  possessed,  he  came, 
this  gracious,  gentle  son  of  man,  this  child  of  God,  with 
nothing  but  joy,  joy  and  irresistible  hope  in  his  heart. 
"  There  is  an  end  to  all  sorrow.  The  joyful  kingdom  of 
Heaven  is  at  hand  !  "  They  cried  aloud  :  "  Behold,  be- 
hold !  He  is  like  the  holy  heroes  of  old !  God  dwells 
within  him,  a  spirit  from  God  dwells  within  him.  He 
must  be  able  to  help  us,  in  whom  a  spirit  of  evil  dwells." 
Round  him  they  gathered,  a  crowd  of  groaning,  cursing, 
beseeching  humanity  :  lost  souls  in  crippled  bodies. 

It  is  impossible  to  paint  the  picture  in  sufficiently  mov- 


318  HOLYLAND 

ing  language.  This  people  had,  perhaps,  no  more  sick 
among  them  than  others,  but  all  the  sick  lay  in  the  street, 
aided  by  no  doctor,  sheltered  by  no  roof,  consoled  by 
no  compassion.  Now  help  had  come  :  help  from  God. 
Ten  thousand  sick  and  one  physician!  And  he?  He 
knew  one  thing — there  is,  there  can  be  no  sickness  in  the 
kingdom  of  Heaven.  The  demon  of  disease  fell  away  like 
discarded  rags  from  all  who  were  ready  to  put  away  evil 
from  them,  to  take  their  stand  on  God's  side.  He  could 
heal  when  heart  and  will  came  to  meet  him.  There  was 
on  his  side  a  holy  longing  to  help,  almost  feverish  in  its 
intensity,  a  passionate  cry  to  his  "  Father  in  Heaven," 
"shall  not  Thy  Kingdom  come  in  this  land."  When 
there  met  him  on  the  other  side  an  eager  faith,  an  utter 
dependence  of  the  diseased  and  weakened  will  on  the 
courage  shining  in  his  stainless  eyes,  then  he  could  help. 
"  Thou  art  the  child  of  God?  A  child  of  God  cannot  be 
sick.  .  .  Come,  give  me  thy  hand.  .  .  Now  .  .  .  arise 
.  .  .  now  .  .  .  rejoice,  be  not  afraid." 

They  cried  aloud  "Behold,  the  Saviour!  he  is  the 
Saviour!  "  The  cry  rang  through  him.  "  The  Saviour? 
Am  I  he?  If  I  am,  my  people  are  in  my  hand.  .  .  Lead 
me  not  into  temptation  !  Evil  spirits  speak  with  their 
lips." 

In  the  evening  he  came  to  a  village  by  the  lake,  and  en- 
tered the  dwelling  of  an  acquaintance.  Immediately  the 
house  was  full  of  people,  crowding  up  to  door  and  window. 
In  the  village  there  was  a  hysterical  young  man,  with  no 
strength  of  mind  or  body,  who  had  lain  for  years  speechless 
and  crippled  in  a  morbid  trance,  supposed  by  himself  and 
the  villagers  to  be  smitten  by  evil  spirits.  Now,  his  father 
and  mother  took  up  the  litter  in  which  he  lay,  and,  coming 
to  the  house,  cried,  "Let  us  come  in."  It  was  impos- 
sible. Strong  arms  raised  the  litter,  or  the  flat-wooden 
roof,  removed  some  of  the  beams,  and  lowered  the  sick 
man  to  Jesus'  feet.  There  was  a  loud  outcry  on  all  sides, 
the  surging  crowd  turned  their  eyes  to  him  in  pas- 
sionate expectancy.  "  You  can  help  :  you  must  help  the 
poor  man."  The  sick  man  looked  up  at  him,  trembling 
entreaty  in  his  eyes.  He  bent  over,  and  something  of  his 
holy  desire  to  help,  something  of  his  confident  certainty 
passed  into  the  sick  man.  "  Since  thou  hast  come  in  pas- 
sionate entreaty,  in  trembling  faith,  thou  art  free  from 


HOLYLAND  319 

the  evil  power :  the  evil  spirits  have  no  power  upon  thee. 
Thou  are  the  child  of  God  :  His  time  is  come."  With  a 
cry  the  sick  man  raised  himself.  "  Arise  and  walk."  It 
was  a  great  time. 

A  spring-  storm  went  through  the  little  land.  He  bore 
the  storm  and  the  storm  bore  him.  The  kingdom  of 
heaven  had  really  begun.  "  It  is  clear  :  the  whole  people 
will  be  won."  Everywhere  the  rule,  the  kingdom  of  God 
shall  have  might !  His  will  has  hitherto  only  been  done 
in  Heaven,  it  shall  now  be  done  on  earth.  The  land 
is  now  becoming  holy,  and  a  Holyland  is  free  and 
happy.  What  can  resist,  if  God  and  man  stand 
together?  " 

The  first  dark  clouds  rose  in  the  smiling  sky.  Two, 
three,  at  the  same  time. 

It  was  the  faith  of  the  whole  country  that  a  Saviour 
was  to  bring  about  the  kingdom  of  Heaven  upon  earth. 
Therefore,  soon  after  his  appearance,  there  began  to  be 
questionings  among  the  people.  "  Is  this  the  Saviour?  " 
They  pondered  deeply  over  it :  "Is  this  he?  Yes,  this  is 
he.  Look  at  his  eyes :  he  is  the  blessed  Son  of  God. 
Think  how  good  he  is,  how  blessed  the  work  of  his 
hands." 

Then  they  began  to  doubt  again.  "  No  this  is 
not  he.  How  could  you  say  this  was  he?  Do  you  not 
know  that  the  Saviour  shall  be  descended  from  an  ancient 
royal  house,  that  he  shall  fulfil  the  law,  heal  all  the  sick, 
destroy  the  oppressors,  and  create  an  empire  upon  earth. 
This  is  not  the  Saviour."  The  hero  knew  that  he  was  the 
Saviour  :  his  own  holy  spirit  said  to  him  :  "  I  am  he  for 
whom  ye  wait,  for  I  can  bring  my  people  to  the  blessed 
accomplishment  of  the  kingdom  of  God.  I  am  he  for 
whom  ye  wait  and  I  will  declare  that  I  am." 

He  saw  the  deep  gulf  that  separated  his  faith  and  the 
faith  of  his  people  :  he  saw  that  they  did  not  understand 
him,  that  they  could  not  free  themselves  from  the  old, 
material  faith  :  he  saw  that  they  always  desired  to  con- 
found his  teaching  with  this  old  material  faith,  and  now 
it  surged  perpetually  round  him  like  the  surf  dashing 
against  the  cliff.  The  people  said  to  him,  demanded  with 
the  furious  hunger  of  a  concealed  desire,  "  Be  the  Saviour 
of  our  dreams  !  "  He  stood  firm,  pure  in  heart,  gracious 


320  HOLYLAND 

in  spirit,  child  and  man  :  "  I  will  be  the  Saviour  that  my 
Father  wills." 

Then  there  fell  a  shadow  over  that  pure  and  lofty 
spirit.  The  sick  and  the  insane  were  importunate  in 
their  entreaties  :  and  so  it  came  to  pass  that  he  became 
a  worker  of  miracles.  Then,  as  now,  people  were  never 
tired  of  propounding  as  a  final  and  irrefragable  doctrine, 
"Health  is  the  highest  good."  "Make  me  healthy! 
and  me  !  and  my  brother  !  and  my  child  !  If  you  can  do 
that  you  are  the  Messiah,  the  Saviour."  Physical  suffer- 
ing, physical  needs,  rose  up  like  a  giant  and  pressed  him 
from  his  path. 

The  goal  to  which  his  path  led  was  not  the  release  from 
sickness  of  a  hundred  sick,  but  the  emancipation  of  a 
whole  people  from  all  the  ills  of  mind,  body,  and  estate 
by  bringing  them  over  to  the  side  of  God.  He  saw  the 
danger  rising  gigantic  before  him,  and  a  spirit  of  rest- 
lessness drove  him  from  village  to  village,  and  roused 
him  anew  in  the  midst  of  his  desire  to  dream  alone  in 
lonely  fields. 

A  new  trouble  came  from  the  south,  from  the  capital. 
The  Nationalists  and  clericals,  dwelling  in  close  proximity 
to  the  great  temple,  used  to  send  their  least  important 
teachers,  priests,  and  agents  to  the  poor  popula- 
tions of  the  north.  But  now  that  there  resounded 
from  the  north  the  clear  note:  "Our  Father  in  Heaven 
has  set  up  His  kingdom  in  our  land ;  He  will  make  us  free 
and  blessed,"  they  realised  that  the  question  was  highly 
serious.  And  so  these  leaders  of  religion  and  patriotism 
sent  to  the  north  their  most  harsh  and  fervent  agents. 
They  regarded  him  with  dark,  knitted  brows. 

It  was  a  strange  intercourse,  with  the  mass  of  the 
people  indifferent  to  religion,  actively  opposed  to  the 
Church,  and  the  publicans,  the  betrayers  of  their 
country.  "Yes,"  he  said,  mockingly;  "why  should  I 
trouble  about  the  righteous,  the  strong,  those  who 
have  everything?  They  need  no  physician.  I  love  those 
who  seek  to  be  purified  and  healed,  who  hunger 
and  thirst  after  strength."  They  came  to  him  with 
uplifted  hands,  a  commandment  at  the  end  of  each 
finger.  "God  says,  you  shall  fast."  "Ah!"  he 
replied ;  ' '  we  are  forced  to  fast  when  our  throats  are 
closed  by  fear  or  famine."  "  God  says,  you  shall  do  no 


HOLYLAND  321 

work  on  Sundays."  "Yes,"  said  he,  "rejoice  and  help 
one  another  on  Sundays."  In  clear  words,  glowing  with 
goodness,  he  opposed  their  distorted  and  senseless  inter- 
pretation by  his  truth,  which  came  to  men  like  sunshine. 
He  thought,  indeed,  that  he  might  avoid  a  breach  with 
these  men.  Carried  away  by  the  enthusiasm  of  the 
people,  he  thought  that,  in  spite  of  their  gloom,  they,  too, 
would  be  aroused ;  his  brave  and  stainless  soul  still 
cherished  the  dream,  "The  whole  people  blessed  and 
holy  beneath  the  sceptre  of  God." 

But  a  few  days  later,  embittered  by  the  discovery  of 
their  own  impotence,  they  went  before  the  people.  There 
is  nothing  in  the  whole  world  more  dreadful  than  the  pro- 
fessional religion  of  people  whose  hearts  have  no  love  in 
them.  "  He  violates  the  commandments  of  God,  do  not 
ye  do  so.  His  great  deeds  are  done  by  evil  means." 
Then  the  Holy  Helper  arose,  his  gracious  heart,  as 
always,  full  of  pity,  standing  before  them,  as  the  angel 
of  the  Lord  once  stood  in  burning  wrath  before 
Cain,  he  said,  "Beware!  He  who  knowingly  calls 
that  which  is  good  evil  is  guilty  of  an  immortal 
sin."  They  shrank  back  and  made  their  way  south,  to 
the  capital,  where  they  reported  :  "  This  man  is  bringing 
the  Church  in  the  north  into  disgrace;  he  is  a  danger  to 
God  and  the  State. "  They  worked  in  the  dark,  by  under- 
ground means.  .  .  Soon  afterwards,  on  their  instigation, 
his  own  mother  and  brothers  came  from  his  native  village 
and  appeared  in  front  of  the  house  where  he  was.  "  We 
have  heard  that  some  say  he  is  one  of  the  heroes  of  old ; 
others  even  declare  him  to  be  the  Saviour  himself.  He  is 
a  poor,  demented  man.  Help  us  to  take  him  home  with 
us." 

When  they  told  him  within  that  his  own  folk  were 
mourning  over  him  outside,  his  strong,  stainless  heart 
stood  still  for  a  moment ;  but  he  lifted  up  his  head. 

And  the  goodness  of  God  permitted  him  at  this  moment 
to  meet  beaming  eyes  looking  up  into  his.  "  I  have 
no  mother,"  he  said,  "  and  no  brethren.  My  mother  and 
my  brethren  are  those  which  hear  the  word  of  God  and 
do  it." 

Yet  the  blow  rankled.  "  I  am  deserted  by  mine  own 
people,  by  those  who  have  known  me  from  my  child- 
hood and  know  that  there  is  in  me  a  good  spirit  sent  from 

Y 


322  HOLYLAND 

God.  I  will  go  home  and  see  whether  they  receive 
me." 

He  went  from  village  to  village,  through  crowds  of 
worshippers,  and  curious,  miserable,  and  sick;  at  every 
corner  agents  of  the  Church ;  and  so  reached  home.  They 
were  ready  for  him  there.  They  looked  at  him  with 
sombre  eyes.  Jesus  the  Carpenter,  old  Joseph's  son; 
is  he  to  set  himself  above  the  learned  priests  of  the 
capital?  Is  he  to  be  a  saint  and  a  hero?  The  Saviour 
Himself  who  is  to  bring  the  kingdom  of  Heaven  upon 
earth  ? 

"If  you  can  .  .  .  look,  there  is  a  sick  man.  .  .  You 
have  known  him  since  your  childhood.  Help  him." 

In  the  sick  man's  eye  there  was  no  gleam  of  confidence, 
of  love.  His  trust  and  courage,  thus  lamed,  could  not 
avail;  he  could  not  help  him. 

Then  they  mocked  at  him,  and  cried  in  furious  anger : 
"The  fool  has  made  us  a  laughing  stock  in  the  land." 
They  wanted  to  lay  hands  upon  him.  But  he  went,  and 
departed  from  among  them. 

His  home  was  lost. 


From  this  day  onward  the  way  of  the  gracious  one  led 
into  the  shadow;  from  this  day  his  face  bore  the  expres- 
sion of  intense  struggle.  He  knew  now  that  all  could  not 
be  children  of  God ;  there  must  be  a  parting.  The  Baptist 
had  spoken  of  it.  Well,  then,  let  the  parting  come. 
"  Think  ye  that  I  am  come  to  give  peace  on  the  earth? 
Not  peace,  but  a  sword." 

There  was  no  fear.  His  burning  eyes  sought  out 
his  opponents.  He  knew  his  path  and  feared  it  not. 
The  craftsman  took  up  the  contest  against  the  his- 
tory of  his  people,  against  the  great  men  of  his  people, 
against  all  the  powers  of  the  world.  He  knows  the  power 
of  evil  is  at  an  end.  God  is  with  him.  God  gives  him 
the  victory.  "  I  am  come  to  cast  fire  upon  the  earth, 
and  would  it  were  ablaze  already. ' ' 

Through  the  land  there  rang  a  clear  and  piercing 
trumpet  call ;  like  a  signal  to  the  regiment  standing  drawn 
up  in  the  morning  grey,  to  qharge  upon  the  foe,  it  pene- 
trated to  the  marrow  of  those  that  heard.  No  man  had 
hitherto  struck  so  deep  into  those  sacred  springs  where 


HOLYLAND  323 

the  divine  dwells  in   secret  in   the  hearts  of  men.     No 
one  had  spoken  with  such  power  to  thrill  and  change. 

"Is  it  keeping  a  thousand  commandments,  my 
brethren,  a  load  that  is  laid  like  a  sack  of  sand  upon  the 
back  of  an  ass,  that  makes  men  righteous?  Is  it  praying, 
fasting,  going  to  church,  or  washing?  Purify  your 
hearts,  my  brethren ;  hold  your  hands  always  ready  to  do 
what  is  right  and  true.  Only  those  who  do  the  will  of 
God  can  hope  to  live  in  a  free  and  happy  land.  Purify 
your  lives,  purify  your  souls  !  Be  holy ;  the  kingdom  of 
Heaven  is  at  hand,  which  shall  set  men  asunder.  Ye 
have  heard  that  it  was  said  to  them  of  old  time  :  ' '  Thou 
shalt  not  kill."  But  I  say  unto  you,  Away  with  all  anger 
and  all  hatred,  let  your  soul  glow  in  forgetting  and  forgiv- 
ing. Ye  have  heard  that  it  was  said,  "Thou  shalt  not 
commit  adultery,"  but  I  say  unto  you,  If  thou  look  after 
another  woman  with  desire  in  thy  heart,  pluck  out  thy 
right  eye  and  cast  it  from  thee ;  be  pure  with  the  one  eye 
that  thou  hast.  Again,  ye  have  heard  it  said,  "  Thou  shalt 
not  forswear."  I  say  unto  you,  A  lie  is  an  unthinkable 
thing  to  the  children  of  God.  Let  your  speech  be  yes 
and  no  ...  that  is  enough.  You  have  heard  it  said, 
' '  An  eye  for  an  eye,  a  tooth  for  a  tooth. ' '  I  say  unto 
you,  Resist  not  him  that  is  evil.  Let  them  strike  you. 
You  will  overcome  them  by  your  gentleness.  .  .  Be  all 
goodness  and  compassion.  Put  away  everything  :  cloth- 
ing and  family.  Have  no  other  thoughts  but  "  Father 
in  Heaven,  Thy  kingdom  come."  What  are  possessions, 
what  is  right  and  wrong  in  the  kingdom  of  God?  But  if 
the  power  of  evil  tries  to  drag  you  away  from  God,  call  on 
Him  and  pray,  pray  fervently.  Ye  shall  be  heard,  most 
assuredly  ye  shall  be  heard.  Would  a  father,  when  his 
children  ask  him  for  bread,  give  them  stones?  .  .  .  What 
things  are  ye  to  pray  for?  Trifles?  Clothes  and  shoes,  a 
house  and  garden,  good  neighbours,  and  so  forth? 
Assuredly  not.  A  little  bread  for  to-day,  so  that  ye  may 
live  to  see  the  kingdom  come.  Pray  that  the  kingdom 
come !  Pray  that  ye  be  ready  for  its  coming.  Pray, 
"  Our  Father,  Thy  kingdom  come.  Thy  will  be  done 
on  earth  as  it  is  in  Heaven.  Give  us  bread  this  day ;  for- 
give us  as  we  forgive  others." 

Looking  into  their  faces,  he  saw  reflected  in  their  eyes 
the  struggle  between  joyous  belief  and  oppressed  misery. 

Y    2 


324  HOLYLAND 

Bitter  was  his  condemnation  of  all  earthly  goods. 
"Accursed  is  money;  accursed  the  care  that  lurks 
in  the  shadow  of  money.  Wealth  is  guilty  when  it 
dominates  all  thoughts  and  conquers  the  soul  itself,  guilty 
when  it  lives  in  idle  forgetfulness  of  the  poor  and  sick 
dwelling  near  it  in  the  squalor  of  their  sunless  homes. 
Accursed  is  money.  If  you  possess  it  you  are  guilty. 
Expiate  your  guilt;  give  away  your  money  to  lessen  the 
poverty  of  the  land. ' ' 

A  man  rose  up  and  came  to  Him,  "  Lord,  my  brother 
is  deceiving  me  about  my  inheritance^  Command  him  to 
give  it  to  me. "  He  turned  away  in  contempt.  "  Man,  who 
has  made  me  a  judge  of  inheritance?  I  am  no  assigner 
of  acres  and  oxen  !  I  am  here  to  say,  "  Let  your  wealth 
go.  Look,  the  sparrows  sow  not,  the  lilies  spin  not, 
and  their  Father  in  Heaven  feeds  and  clothes  them  every 
day.  Shall  he  let  the  children  of  his  kingdom,  the  care 
of  his  soul,  perish  of  hunger  and  cold?  Away  with 
money  !  It  is  worthless,  it  hinders  you.  Do  not  collect 
money,  collect  rather  the  love  of  God  and  man.  Care  for 
this  only;  God's  land  shall  be  our  home.  Soon!  to- 
morrow !  or  the  day  after  to-morrow  !  Care  and  strive 
only  for  this — to  be  worthy  of  the  blessed  home,  the 
blessed  time  that  is  close  at  hand. 

"  Be  not  afraid,  children  of  God  !  Despair  not  of  your 
own  soul ;  God  dwells  within  it  to  help  it.  See  how  small 
is  a  grain  of  mustard  seed,  you  can  hold  it  between  the 
tips  of  your  two  fingers ;  and  yet  it  grows,  grows  into  a 
tree.  Be  not  afraid,  children  of  God ;  will  one  thing 
only,  to  bring  your  souls  close  to  God.  Forgetting  all 
else,  care  for  this  alone.  The  merchant  goes  down  to  the 
beach  to  buy  what  is  for  sale.  A  pearlfisher  held  a  pearl 
in  the  hollow  of  his  hand,  a  pearl  of  great  price;  to  be 
bought  cheap.  A  bargain,  a  bargain  !  The  man  hastened 
away ;  he  sold  and  put  away  from  him  his  land,  his  house, 
and  all  his  possessions,  and  returned  with  the  money  in 
the  hollow  of  his  hand,  ar>^.  bought  the  pearl.  It  was  of 
unspeakable  value.  In  a  moment  he  became  very  rich. 
Brethren,  purify  your  souls  !  Draw  near  to  God  !  The 
bliss  of  God  costs  little  to  obtain.  Look  at  my  eyes, 
look  at  my  life,  look  at  all  I  do — God's  bliss  dwells  within 
my  soul.  God's  bliss  comes — yes,  it  comes.  Look  at 
me." 


HOLYLAND  325 

An  old  woman  had  kept  her  eager  eyes  fixed  upon 
him;  now  she  cried  in  her  clear  old  voice,  "  Blessed  is  the 
womb  that  bare  thee,  and  the  breasts  which  thou  didst 
suck." 

His  soul  was  still  full  of  soaring  hope.  He  for- 
got and  despised  the  enmity  of  the  clericals.  The  wound 
his  home  had  dealt  him  healed,  although  a  scar  remained. 
There  were  many  who  doubted,  but  many  stood  before 
him  with  joyful  eyes.  Lofty  exaltation  went  before 
him  like  a  gleaming  herald;  and  the  faithful  stood 
at  his  right  hand  and  his  left  like  knightly  watch- 
men. Rejoicing  sounded  behind  him  like  a  waving 
banner. 

His  courage  was  high ;  he  sent  the  disciples  who  had 
been  three  or  four  months  with  him  now  into  the  sur- 
rounding districts;  they  declared,  "  There  is  an  end  to  all 
sorrow;  the  kingdom  of  Heaven,  yearned  for  so  long,  is 
now  at  hand.  A  man  like  the  heroes  of  old,  a  man  be- 
loved by  God  and  men,  a  man  of  kindly  strength  and 
lofty  stainlessness  of  soul  is  now  among  us.  He  announces 
the  day  of  healing,  he  forgives  sin,  and  reproves  the 
spirits  of  evil  and  casts  them  forth.  He  has  conquered 
altogether;  our  enchanted  souls  stand  before  him  in 
speechless  rapture.  Believe  us,  cast  all  evil  from  you  that 
your  hearts  may  laugh  like  ours,  and  then  God  in  Heaven 
will  suddenly  make  an  end  of  all  our  misery,  and,  with  the 
help  of  His  thousand  angels,  will  build  His  kingdom  in 
our  land." 

After  a  week  they  returned.  "  Oh,  Lord,  even 
the  evil  spirits  within  the  sick  and  the  insane  did  our 
bidding."  Then  his  soul  rejoiced  mightily.  "  I  saw 
Satan  fall  from  his  dark  corner  in  Heaven  like  a  flash  of 
lightning  on  to  earth,  to  save  what  he  could  save.  He  sees 
that  his  kingdom  is  at  an  end  upon  the  earth.  But  I 
laugh  and  rejoice  in  Thee,  my  Father  in  Heaven ;  I  laugh 
and  rejoice  that  Thou,  a  Mysterious  Being,  hast  displayed 
to  me  thy  graciousness  and  made  me  Thy  child,  and  now 
helpest  me  to  bring  to  Thee  many  others  of  Thy  children. 
I  laugh  and  rejoice  that  no  one  has  known  Thee  save  I 
alone,  that  all  must  now  see  from  me  and  learn  from  me 
and  attain  bliss  through  me.  I  laugh  and  rejoice  that  Thou 
hast  not  opened  Thy  kingdom  to  the  great  and  wise,  but 
to  men  like  me,  lowly  and  unlearned." 


326  HOLYLAND 

And  so,  rejoicing,  he  went  on  his  way,  always  kindly, 
always  full  of  graciousness. 

A  rich  Nationalist  named  Simon,  who  liked  to  have 
famous  people  at  his  table  and  to  have  a  reputation  for 
generosity,  invited  him  to  a  feast.  The  table  was  set  in 
the  open  hall ;  the  guests  sat  round  with  bare  feet,  accord- 
ing to  the  custom  of  the  country.  There  was  a 
great  press  at  the  door;  a  poor  girl,  tortured  by  remorse 
for  a  life  of  dissipation,  heard  that  he  was  there  of  whom 
it  was  said  that  the.  spirit  of  God  dwelt  in  him  in  some 
wondrous  manner.  She  stood  there  seeking  for  him ; 
then,  recognising  the  true,  gentle  eyes,  she  fell  on  her 
knees  before  him.  As  she  lay  there  she  saw  that  his 
feet  were  dusty  from  the  way,  and,  taking  water  from  a 
vessel,  she  washed  his  feet,  weeping  the  while,  and,  bend- 
ing down,  dried  them  with  her  long  hair.  A  silence  fell 
upon  the  hall ;  there  was  no  sound  save  her  bitter  weep- 
ing. Then  the  hero,  looking  up,  saw  secret  scorn  written 
on  the  face  of  his  host.  "  If  you  were  a  saint  you  would 
know  that  she  is  a  prostitute."  Fire  burned  in  his  eyes. 
"  Simon;  I  have  something  to  say  to  you."  The  silence 
was  more  intense.  "  A  moneylender  lent  money  to  two 
men,  fifty  shekels  to  one,  five  hundred  to  the  other. 
Neither  of  them  could  pay  him  back.  He  gave  them 
what  they  owed  him.  Now  tell  me,  which  of  the  two 
would  love  the  moneylender  most?  " 

Simon  smiled :  "  The  one  to  whom  the  most  was 
given." 

Then  the  gracious  one  said  angrily:  "  Listen,  Simon. 
All  over  our  country  it  is  customary  to  give  a  guest  who 
comes  in  from  the  dusty  street  water  to  wash  his  feet,  and 
a  friendly  handshake.  You  gave  me  neither  the  one  nor 
the  other.  You  think  you  do  not  need  to  be  kind ;  you 
think  you  need  neither  God  nor  man ;  you  think  you  owe 
nothing  to  anyone,  not  even  fifty  shekels.  You  think.  .  . 
Oh,  this  lost,  ruined  woman  !  .  .  .  This  woman,  Simon  ! 
Five  hundred  shekels,  that  is  a  great  deal  to  owe  God  and 
man  !  A  great  sinner  !  But,  behold,  all  her  sins  are  for- 
gotten and  forgiven ;  because  of  the  love  she  has  poured 
out  to  me,  a  wanderer,  and  to  God,  whom  she  knows 
within  me.  Love  of  God  and  man,  Simon,  can  cover  a 
multitude  of  sins.  Are  you  forgiven,  Simon?  " 

To  her  he  spoke  tenderly.     "God   in   Heaven   is  thy 


HOLYLAND  327 

Father,  too,  and  He  loves  thee.  He  loves  thee,  just 
as  thou  art.  Do  thou  love  Him  also,  even  if  thou  canst 
not  free  thyself  from  sin  !  Go  now,  do  not  weep  so." 

And  so  he  went  from  village  to  village,  always  great 
and  good,  filled  with  new  inspirations. 

But  behind  him,  far  enough  behind  for  the  dust  of  daily 
life  to  have  settled  down  and  choked  the  excited  souls ;  be- 
hind him  there  crept  black  enemies.  They  rose  like  crows 
from  the  roof  of  a  church,  rising  up  and  up,  flying  on 
and  on,  following  the  wild  beast  as  he  takes  his  lonely 
way  into  the  field,  flying  behind  him,  cawing  softly;  they 
rose  from  the  great  temple  in  the  south  and  flew  north, 
flew  north  behind  him,  screeching.  "  You  think  you  will 
destroy  the  ancient  holy  things ;  you  shall  yet  see  and 
marvel,  you  fool,  how  deeply  rooted  they  are  in  the  soul 
of  the  people."  They  cried  passionately  to  the  people, 
"  Remain  in  the  faith  of  your  ancestors  !  Will  you  deride 
your  fathers  in  their  graves?  Is  this  ignorant  man, 
brought  up  in  some  little  village  far  from  the  knowledge 
of  the  Church,  on  the  verge  of  the  moorland,  is  he  to  lay 
hands  on  the  Holy  of  Holies,  which  the  learned  men  of 
God  protect?  Is  he  to  lay  hands  on  the  sole  and  most 
sacred  possession  of  our  poor,  unhappy  country,  the 
Church?  What,  else  does  it  mean?  Is  this  to  be  the 
promised  Saviour?  Does  he  fulfil  a  single  condition  of 
the  true  Saviour?  He  is  the  servant  of  the  devil." 

They  stirred  up  misery,  fear,  and  terror;  they  let  con- 
fusion loose  again.  They  talked  secretly  with  the 
women  and  with  the  palsied  old  men.  They  played  upon 
the  stupidity  and  superstition  of  the  masses ;  freeing  them 
from  the  terrible  necessity  of  judging  for  themselves. 
"We  are  priests,  and  therefore  know." 

Many  refused  to  listen  to  them.  Those  of  a  deeper 
tenderness  of  soul,  many  a  strong,  simple  man,  many  a 
brave  woman,  many  a  workman  said,  "What  is  the 
Church  to  us?  Has  it  ever  cared  for  us?  " 

Many  looked  up  to  him  with  joyful  eyes,  transported  by 
his  inspiration,  his  goodness,  and  his  truth.  But  the 
great  mass  of  the  people,  that  blind  and  heavy  beast  that 
had  lifted  its  head  a  little  and  begun  to  look  about  it  a 
little  when  his  clear  voice  rang  in  its  ears,  the  mass  of 
the  people  went  back  to  its  slumbers.  "  Certainly  the 
commandments  and  customs  of  the  Church  are  sacred. 


328  HOLYLAND 

How  could  they  be  so  venerable  else?  Our  fathers  and 
our  grandfathers  strove  to  keep  them  faithfully.  Oh,  me  ! 
what  an  age;  why  has  one  to  ponder  so  deeply?  Sit  still, 
my  soul;  my  soul,  the  priests  must  know.  Look  how 
clever  their  eyes  are,  and  what  deep  lines  are  in  their 
lofty  brows  !  Beware,  my  soul !  I  pray  thee,  be  at  peace 
and  keep  to  the  old  order  of  things."  So  the  heavy 
beast  became  calm  once  more  :  the  crows  flew  on  behind 
him  without  uttering  a  sound. 

The  sunshiny  hero  turned  and  retraced  his  steps ;  the 
whole  district  he  had  covered  hitherto  was  not  more  than 
five  or  six  days'  journey.  When  he  returned  he  found 
a  change  in  the  attitude  of  the  people;  he  saw  that  they 
were  falling  away  from  him.  He  went  on  until  he  came  to 
a  village  through  which  he  had  passed  in  triumph  four 
months  ago ;  the  people  stood  on  the  thresholds,  immov- 
able. He  passed  through  several  little  towns  by  the  lake, 
where  four  and  five  months  ago  he  had  been  surrounded 
by  eager  crowds,  with  madmen  shrieking,  sick  men 
brought  out  into  the  street  on  their  litters,  women  implor- 
ing him  for  aid,  all  eyes  turned  to  him  in  passionate 
excitement,  every  one  at  his  feet,  as  he  declared,  "  Our 
country  is  now  like  a  blessed  Holyland."  Now  the 
streets  were  empty,  one  or  two  faces  looking  shyly  round 
the  doors.  He  came  to  the  little  town  by  the  lake  which 
only  two  months  ago  he  had  called  "  my  town  "  in  proud 
assurance,  when  enthusiasm  had  risen  high  in  streets 
and  houses ;  where  the  kingdom  of  Heaven  seemed  already 
to  rule  in  the  streets  and  to  inspire  men's  hearts. 
The  sick  still  came,  and  some  of  the  faithful.  But  the 
mass  of  the  people  stayed  nervously  at  home.  "We  can 
hear  no  trumpet  blast  from  Heaven.  The  kingdom  of 
Heaven  does  not  come.  He  is  good,  but  mistaken." 
The  clericals  threatened. 

When  he  saw  the  decline  of  faith,  this  nervous 
shrinking  away  from  him,  he  could  not  restrain  the 
words  of  burning  anger.  "Woe  to  you,  towns  of 
the  lake ;  ye  who  have  seen  wonders.  Others 
would  have  repented  in  sackcloth  and  ashes.  Woe  to 
you,  my  town  !  Thou  wast  raised  up  to  Heaven,  thou 
shalt  be  cast  down  to  Hell."  All  joy  was  gone;  his  heart 
was  burdened  and  cast  down.  What  could  he  do?  His 
soul,  pregnant  with  a  new  and  glorious  world,  could  not 


HOLYLAND  329 

bring-  it  into  being.  What  could  he  do?  He  knows  that 
his  Heavenly  Father  is  ever  by  his  side,  but  men  will 
not  believe.  What  can  he  do?  To  go  back  is  impos- 
sible, but  can  he  abandon  the  cause  of  his  joy ;  leave  the 
truth  with  all  its  sweetness  ?  What  can  he  do  ?  Come  to 
an  understanding  with  the  Church  party?  Say,  "  Go  on 
fasting  and  washing,  keep  the  commandments  and  the 
Sabbath,  and  purify  your  hearts."  That  was  impossible. 
One  cannot  cut  truth  in  halves,  keep  one  half  and  let  the 
other  go.  If  it  meant  death,  he  must  stand  by  the  truth, 
one  and  indivisible.  Serve  God  whole-heartedly,  and 
God's  will  be  done!  ....  "  What  is  God's  will?  What 
is  He  doing  with  me?  " 

Then  there  came  two  events  to  bring  the  final  clear- 
ness, like  nightly  beacons  to  show  the  further  path. 

Once  again  for  the  second  and  last  time  the  wild,  dark 
apparition  rose  before  him  which,  six  months  ago,  had 
awakened  his  dreaming  soul  with  clarion  voice ;  the  hero 
of  the  stream,  the  Baptist.  He  was  now  a  prisoner,  and 
in  his  prison  strained  like  the  captured  deer  for  the  fresh 
woodland  and  the  keen  wind.  He  sent  two  disciples  to 
the  north.  "Go  and  ask  him  what  he  is  doing.  What 
does  he  seek?  Do  not  the  people  exult  in  him,  have  they 
made  him  king?  Why  does  not  he  arise  like  a  lion  and 
fill  the  land  with  his  roar?  Do  not  the  old  prophecies 
say  the  Herald  of  the  Lord  shall  go  south  to  the  capital, 
and  then,  sitting  on  the  throne  of  the  ancient  kings,  rule 
for  ever  over  a  free  people?  Why  does  he  not  go  thither, 
sword  in  hand,  at  the  head  of  the  people  that  have  exulted 
in  him  for  six  months?  Go  and  ask  him,  Art  thou  the 
great  Saviour,  sent  by  God,  for  whom  we  have  cried  aloud 
for  eight  hundred  years?  Or  must  we  wait  for  another?  " 

The  question  fell  like  lead  upon  the  hero's  heart.  "  He, 
too,  has  the  old  material  hero  before  his  eyes  !  He,  too, 
does  not  understand."  He  answered  brief  and  clear: 
"Tell  him,  the  kingdom  of  God  exists;  and  this  it  is: 
Sickness  and  sin,  poverty  and  sorrow  are  declining,  and 
the  oppressed  people  is  full  of  laughing  joy."  He  raised 
his  hand  and  said,  shaken  by  this  cruel  separation  from 
the  brave  hero,  "This  is  a  brave  and  true  man,  but  he 
has  fallen  into  the  grave  error  of  thinking,  like  the  self- 
righteous,  that  the  kingdom  of  Heaven  will  come  to  pass  by 


330  HOLYLAND 

means  of  earthly  might.  But  I  say  unto  you  that  the  pure 
and  lowly  are  the  citizens  of  the  kingdom  of  Heaven, 
and  they  will  make  their  way  thither  without  weapons 
and  without  armour,  without  forms  and  commandments." 

When  the  clericals  heard  how  he  spoke  of  their  venerable 
precepts  they  rose  against  him ;  they  ventured  to  attack 
the  lion,  now  that  his  strength  seemed  to  be  failing. 

"  Tell  us  plainly  what  do  you  say  to  all  the  sacred  com- 
mandments issued  by  the  Church?  " 

He  trampled  their  sacred  customs  and  commandments 
under  his  feet.  "  You  hypocrites,  are  these  the  com- 
mandments of  God?  No,  they  are  the  senseless  invention 
of  men,  which  come  between  the  people  and  the  will  of 
God.  Away  with  the  Church  ritual  of  righteousness ;  it  is 
the  curse  of  the  people.  Nothing  matters  but  the  heart 
of  a  man  and  the  life  he  leads." 

There  was  an  end  of  the  so-called  "  sacred  "  precepts, 
an  end  of  all  pretentious  self-complacent  righteousness ;  he 
cast  them  all  to  the  ground,  the  ancient  holies,  the  ornate 
and  costly  churches,  the  ceremonial,  the  countless  priests, 
the  wreaths  and  masses,  the  sacrifices  and  the  sacraments, 
the  long  pilgrimages,  all  that  had  weighed  on  mankind  for 
centuries  he  swept  away;  on  his  shoulders  there  now 
rested  the  whole  burden  of  human  destiny. 

He  was  now  an  accursed  sinner,  a  blasphemer  of  God. 
"  Listen,  listen  !  Have  you  heard  ?  He  has  defiled  every- 
thing holy;  he  is  an  emissary  of  the  devil."  And  the 
masses,  that  blind,  heavy  beast,  crept  further  away  from 
him. 

' '  What  now  ?  What  will  become  of  me  and  my  work 
now?  I  feel  that  death  and  sorrow  are  drawing  nigh.  .  . 
What  then?  Farewell,  young  life.  .  .  If  I  only  knew 
how  to  carry  the  duty  He  has  laid  upon  my  soul.  Oh,  dear 
country,  how  can  I  make  you  pure  and  holy,  ready  for 
the  time  when  God  shall  come  with  His  angels  to  set  up 
His  kingdom  within  your  bounds?  How  can  I  com- 
plete my  work,  hated  as  I  am  by  the  rich  and  righteous, 
supported  by  the  people  one  day,  only  to  be  deserted  by 
them  the  next?  How  am  I  to  begin?  How  can  I  make 
the  people  one  with  me  in  spirit,  so  that  we  can  break 
into  the  kingdom  of  Heaven  together?  How  does  He  will 
that  I  should  help  Him?  " 

And  behold ;  as  he  questioned  fearfully  he  saw  as  if  in  a 


HOLYLAND  331 

mist  the  old  sacred  banner  waving  on  his  path  in  front  of 
him,  the  banner  up  to  which  the  people  had  looked  with 
dazzled  eyes  for  eight  hundred  years.  ' '  The  Saviour  will 
come ;  the  son  of  a  King. "  How  the  people  gazed  !  "Is 
he  coming  ?  He  is  come  ?  There  is  the  banner  swaying ; 
look  how  the  sword  flashes  !  "  A  wild  shout  of  joy  rent 
the  skies,  the  people  were  at  their  Saviour's  feet. 

"  Shall  I  take  the  banner  in  my  hand;  shall  I  say  I  am 
the  Saviour— I?" 

"Those  possessed  by  evil  spirits  cry  out,  'You  are 
he !  '  In  many  an  hour  of  exaltation  the  people  have 
urged  me  to  say,  '  I  am  he. '  The  hero  from  the  river 
asked,  'Art  thou  he?'  All  dream  of,  all  long  for,  the 
cry,  '  Out  with  the  banner  !  ' 

' '  I  know  that  I  am  he.  From  my  childhood  I  have  been 
the  child  of  God." 

"  If  I  do  not  raise  the  banner  there  is  no  hope  that  God 
will  win  the  people." 

"  Beware,  do  not  touch  the  banner;  there  is  earth  cling- 
ing to  it.  Beware  !  thou  knowest  that  the  Saviour,  in 
whom  the  people  believe,  is  not  he  in  whom  thou  believest ; 
their  belief  is  wild,  confused,  it  has  nothing  to  do  with 
thee ;  it  will  drag  thee  and  thy  stainless  mission  down 
into  the  dark  confusion  of  death." 

He  went  north,  across  the  border,  to  be  alone  in  a 
strange  place,  with  his  little  band  of  disciples.  His  soul 
was  heavy  and  perturbed.  "  I  know  that  my  Father 
in  Heaven  is  with  me  .  .  .  my  faith  does  not  tremble.  .  . 
God  rules  within  my  soul.  His  kingdom  will  come  on 
earth,  and  soon.  How  strangely  hard  it  is  to  be  one  with 
God  and  yet  unable  to  bring  His  will  to  pass.  .  .  And  it 
is  time  ...  I  must  go  south,  I  must  go  through  the 
whole  land,  I  must  go  to  the  capital  and  proclaim  there 
also  that  the  kingdom  of  Heaven  is  at  hand.  What  am  I 
to  do?  Listen  to  the  mysterious  rustling  of  the  old,  the 
miraculous  banner  !  He  who  holds  it  has  strength.  The 
people  follow  him  !  What  do  the  old  chronicles  say 
of  the  Saviour?  '  A  twig  from  the  ancient  royal  stem  ' 
— and  I  am  a  craftsman,  sprung  from  the  people.  What 
do  they  say?  What  do  the  people  say  when  they  sit  by 
their  doors  in  the  evening?  '  He  will  hold  in  his  hand  the 
might  of  earthly  power ;  he  will  ride  against  the  foe  with 
waving  banners.'  .  .  .  No,  I  will  not  do  it — will  not 


332  HOLYLAND 

depart  from  the  word  that  God  has  spoken  to  me.  Blessed 
are  the  meek.  Blessed  are  the  pure  in  heart.  And  do 
the  old  chronicles  tell  no  other  story  ?  Do  they  not  speak 
of  the  king  of  peace?  '  Behold,  O  land,  thy  king  is  come, 
clad  in  peace.'  Not  a  king  ruling  with  the  sword  over  a 
people  armed  with  swords ;  a  king  ruling  in  the  strength  of 
a  pure  and  lofty  heart  other  people  that  are  pure  in  heart. 
And  I  am  he." 

So  he  pondered  over  the  history  of  his  people  and  over 
his  own  future,  and  he  did  not  depart  by  one  hair's  breadth 
from  the  truth  that  was  the  sacred  possession  of  his  soul. 
They  turned  and  went  south,  homewards.  As  he  drew 
near  the  familiar  district  the  crowd  that  followed  him 
grew. 

The  contest  still  raged  in  his  soul. 

"Are  you  the  Saviour?  Then  seize  the  banner;  help 
thy  people  and  God  will  be  with  thee. "  Already  there 
shone  in  his  eyes  the  light  of  another  world.  The  knees 
of  those  who  saw  him  bent  beneath  them ;  the  sick  and 
the  poor  rejoiced ;  thousands  followed  his  healing  hands, 
and  hearkened  to  his  gracious  words,  feeling  neither 
hunger  nor  thirst.  He  filled  the  souls  with  such  joy 
that  they  forgot  their  bodies. 

The  priests  alone  remained  unmoved ;  religion  had 
long  since  turned  to  poison  in  their  hard  hearts.  "  You 
are  a  wonder  worker,  but  what  sort  of  wonders  have 
you  done?  Healing  the  sick?  There  are  many  in  the 
land  who  can  do  that.  Come,  make  red  fire  descend  from 
the  blue  sky,  here  on  this  moorland  path  where  you  stand 
now.  Or  if  not  that,  then  let  an  angel  from  God  stand 
with  his  pure  feet  on  the  white  sand  on  your  left !  " 

In  bitter  anger  he  replied,  "  You  want  a  sign  from 
Heaven,  that  belief  and  salvation  may  cost  you  nothing  ! 
Ye  have  seen  and  heard  of  a  holiness  that  has  never 
existed  in  the  world  before,  and  yet  ye  have  not  believed  ! 
A  sign  from  heaven?  Ye  shall  have  it  when  ye  rise  from 
your  graves  before  the  judgment  seat." 

Hearing  question  and  answer,  the  people  were  once 
more  filled  with  doubt,  because  they  had  seen  nothing. 
"  Many  people  can  heal  the  sick;  ay,  and  work  wonders; 
the  world  is  full  of  them." 

Once  more  he  crossed  the  border  into  the  loneliness  of 
the  north,  wandering  over  deserted  moorland  paths, 


HOLYLAND  333 

sorely  troubled  by  the  scornful  attack  of  the  priests  and 
the  wavering  of  the  people.     "  I  cannot  reach  the  goal 
in  this  way.     How  am  I  to  bring  the  Kingdom  of  Heaven 
to  pass  upon  Earth?     Father  in  Heaven,  help  me!" 
'  Thou  art  the  Saviour ;  now  thou  art  strong  !  ' ' 

He  went  further  on  his  desolate  way.  "  What  is 
written  concerning  the  Saviour  in  the  ancient  chronicles  ? 
They  talk  of  the  waving  palm  leaves  and  the  rejoic- 
ing of  children,  of  a  joyous  entry  in  the  capital, 
and  then  of  a  glorious  rule  over  a  sinless,  obedient  people ; 
but  is  that  all  they  say  ?  Do  they  not  speak  of  the  people, 
"  the  people  will  make  deaf  its  ears  and  turn  its  heart  to 
stone,"  and  they  speak  of  revilement  and  contempt,  of 
bitter  desertion,  of  a  miserable  and  lonely  death.  They 
speak  not  only  of  the  Saviour's  victory,  but  of  his  death." 

"And  after  death?" 

' '  What  then — what  after  death  ?  What  says  the 
chronicle?  '  One  like  a  child  of  man  arose  to  heaven 
among  the  clouds,  and  was  brought  before  the  Ancient 
of  Days ;  to  him  were  granted  power  and  glory  and  king- 
dom upon  earth,  all  peoples  and  all  races  were  to  serve 
him ;  his  power  was  to  endure  unchanged  for  ever,  his 
kingdom  was  never  to  suffer  destruction.  .  .  . '  It  may 
be  that  the  Saviour  must  first  die  and  go  to  God  to  receive 
the  crown  .  .  .  and  then  .  .  .  after  a  few  days  ...  on 
the  third  day  he  returns  and  establishes  the  kingdom  of 
Heaven." 

His  soul  soared  to  the  heavenly  heights  and  expanded 
so  as  to  embrace  the  whole  of  humanity ;  weaving  visions 
of  marvellous  splendour,  touching  the  extreme  limits  of 
human  thought  in  lofty  delirium.  There  was  no  fear  in 
him.  If  the  hearts  of  men  were  made  of  stone  was  it 
not  written  in  the  chronicle,  '  I  make  thy  brow  harder 
than  stone,  as  hard  as  a  diamond?  "  No;  there  was  no 
fear ;  no.  He  will  execute  his  Father's  will,  were  it  even 
more  wonderful,  even  more  difficult.  If  only  men  are 
helped  !  His  ideal  never  changes ;  it  was  still  the  same 
as  when  he  first  arose  among  men — the  condition  of 
humanity,  its  misery,  sickness,  madness,  wretchedness 
and  oppression,  sin  and  guilt,  cannot  endure.  A  wonder 
must  take  place.  The  kingdom  of  Heaven  will  and  must 
come.  Then  men,  pure,  rejoicing  in  the  goodness  of  God, 
content  in  mind  and  body,  will  find  happiness  in  per- 


334  HOLYLAND 

forming  His  will,  '  Thy  will  be  done  on  earth  as  it  is 
in  Heaven. '  This  holy  work  was  his  to  do  on  earth  with 
the  help  of  God.  That  was  his  idea.  Never  for  a 
moment  did  he  depart  by  one  hair's  breadth  from  his 
true  and  stainless  self.  He  brooded  long  and  painfully 
over  the  execution  of  his  idea.  He  had  judged  the  ancient 
customs ;  he  now  considered  the  hopes  of  the  people.  .  .  . 

' '  I  must  lift  up  the  ancient  standard,  it  shall  be  pure  and 
my  course  pure.  I  must  lift  up  the  ancient  standard ; 
only  under  this  standard  can  the  people  be  inspired  by 
faith.  It  is  the  will  of  God;  otherwise  He  would  help 
me  without  the  standard.  I  will  lift  up  the  standard. 
Then,  then  it  will  come  with  loud  rejoicing  from  Heaven, 
with  the  help  of  the  angels,  the  kingdom  of  Heaven  upon 
earth." 

So  he  brooded.  Torn  by  the  world's  travail,  torn  by 
the  very  sublimity  of  his  own  nature,  he  went  behind  the 
heavy  horses  that  drew  the  wagon  of  humanity  through 
the  dark  valley,  holding  the  obstinate,  the  slow,  and  the 
impatient  on  a  short  rein,  forcing  them  up  on  to  an  upland 
path,  where  the  sun  shone  and  the  wind  blew  upon 
them. 

They  went  on  their  way  across  the  moor  towards  the 
north  for  three  or  four  days,  he  in  front,  lost  in  thought, 
the  disciples  behind  with  sinking  spirits,  that  only  rose 
when  he  turned  to  look  at  them.  His  eyes  were  at  once 
their  terror  and  their  joy.  Thus  they  reached  the  foot 
of  the  mountain.  How  long  would  he  wander  on,  unde- 
cided? The  hour  of  decision  must  come. 

"  Tell  me,  what  do  the  people  say  that  I  am?  " 

It  is  sad  that  he  should  have  to  ask  people's  opinion. 

The  disciples  replied,  "They  say  you  are  one  of  the 
heroes  of  old;  one  of  the  dead  arisen,  they  say." 

' '  And  what  do  you  say  ?  ' ' 

The  hot-headed  fellow  among  them  cried  out  of  a  full 
heart,  ' '  You — you  are  the  Saviour !  .  .  .  we  have  long 
known  it." 

"Yes,  you  are  the  Saviour." 

"  Only  speak,  and  you  could  rule  the  land." 

"And  then,  out  with  the  sword!  Down  with  the 
foreign  rule  and  the  upstart  parsons  !  " 

"  You,  King  in  your  native  country!  .  .  .  Your  king- 
dom at  the  sword's  point !  " 


HOLYLAND  335 

"And  we,  your  disciples,  standing  to  your  right  and 
left,  vassals  and  ministers." 

It  filled  him  with  horror  to  see  how  little  even  these 
men  understood  him,  these  men,  nearer  to  him  than  all 
others,  who  had  been  with  him  for  half  a  year.  He 
answered  harshly,  "  Do  ye  know  what  is  written?  It 
may  come  to  war  and  conquest.  .  .  .  But  the  old  books 
tell  a  different  tale  :  a  tale  of  sorrow  and  death,  and  then, 
and  not  till  then,  the  glory  comes." 

They  shook  their  heads ;  they  could  not  understand.  The 
old  books,  the  inspiration  of  their  youth  had  taught  them 
.  only  the  wild  song  of  joyful  contest — up  with  the  banner 
of  salvation  !  and  God  and  His  hosts  will  give  the  victory. 
The  hot-headed  one  came  close  to  him  and  whispered, 
"  Do  not  talk  so  much  of  humility  and  purity  and  death  ! 
Talk  more  about  the  sword  !  Up  to  the  throne  !  .  .  . 
Who  shall  sit  on  thy  right  hand,  Master?  " 

He  pushed  him  aside,  "Get  thee  behind  me,  Satan.  I 
hearken  only  to  the  will  of  God.  What  shall  it  profit  a 
man  if  he  gain  the  whole  world  and  lose  his  own  soul? 
He  who  will  follow  me  must  put  from  him  all  wild  and 
earthly  desires,  and  go  with  me  to  life  or  death,  victory 
or  defeat." 

They  turned,  and  went  to  their  homes. 

He  went  on  alone.  A  man  pure,  good,  and  holy, 
wrapped  in  sublime  thoughts,  in  wonderful  visions  and 
dreams,  set  apart  by  his  love  for  mankind  and  for  the 
eternal  and  mysterious  power  which  he  called  Father  ! 
Never  was  man  so  utterly  alone ;  one  man  against  a  whole 
people,  against  the  whole  of  humanity.  But  the  Eternal 
Power  spread  its  arms  around  him.  He  resolved  to  go 
south,  and  there  proclaim  the  kingdom  of  Heaven  in  the 
capital,  bearing  in  his  brave,  fearful  soul  the  power  to 
meet  all  that  might  come. 

What  can  stand  against  the  soul  of  a  man  sublime  and 
stainless  ? 

As  they  journeyed  southwards,  his  eyes  looking  their 
last  on  the  green  hills  and  vale  round  the  lake,  crowds 
once  more  gathered  the  helper  and  friend  of  mea  to  hear 
his  wondrous  words.  Now  there  was  a  new  astonish- 
ment :  the  disciples  did  not  conceal  the  secret  they  had 
learned.  "  He  himself  has  said  he  is  the  Saviour!  The 


336  HOLYLAND 

Saviour   for   whom   we   have   waited    for   eight   hundred 
years !  ' ' 

'The  Saviour!  " 

' '  Was  not  the  Saviour  to  be  of  an  ancient  royal  house  ? 
Was  he  not  to  come  in  the  golden  panoply  of  war?  Was 
he  not  to  wield  the  sword  and  ride  upon  the  storm  ?  This 
man  is  good,  ay,  and  holy;  he  speaks  of  mercy  and  of 
purity  of  heart. ' ' 

Questions  were  asked  and  answered  in  feverish  excite- 
ment. There  was  no  wild  outburst  of  rejoicing. 

The  clericals  went  to  the  Duke,  who  had  a  considerable 
regiment  in  the  north,  and  was  always  eager  to  find  some 
way  of  ingratiating  himself  with  the  all-powerful  imperial 
governor  in  the  south.  They  roused  him  by  saying, 
"  Before  he  was  merely  a  harmless  enthusiast,  but  now 
that  he  calls  himself  the  Saviour  he  has  become  a  political 
offender. ' ' 

Faithful  adherents  warned  the  hero  of  a  conspiracy  on 
foot  against  him,  but  he  was  already  on  his  way  south. 
There  was  reason  for  hastening  his  journey.  The  great 
festival  of  the  Church  was  just  beginning  in  the  capital; 
thousands  of  people  assembled  f^om  all  parts  of  the 
country,  and  their  compatriots  scattered  in  all  the  quarters 
of  the  globe  came  too. 

He  would  arise  in  the  midst  of  the  festival  and 
declare,  "  I  am  the  Saviour.  I  ...  I  shall  bring  to 
pass  the  kingdom  of  Heaven  upon  earth."  And  then  the 
Heavenly  Father  would  appear  by  his  side  with  more  than 
ten  thousand  warriors  from  His  Heavenly  host.  And  if 
not  he  would  come  again,  soon  after  his  death,  with  the 
Heavenly  host  behind  him.  He  sent  a  message  breathing 
contempt  to  the  Duke,  "Tell  the  fox  that  I  am  healing 
the  sick  and  the  insane,  and  on  the  third  day  I  reach  my 
goal."  With  the  courage  of  despair,  conscious  of  the 
shadows  closing  round  him,  he  said,  "  I  must  go  on  my 
way  to-day,  to-morrow,  the  day  after  to-morrow,  for 
they  must  rise  in  the  capital  whom  God  has  inspired  and 
set  in  flames."  His  words  entered  in  like  nails  into  the 
hearts  of  his  friends.  "I  must  die;  but  I  shall  return 
in  glory,  clad  with  the  might  of  God,  to  establish  His 
kingdom." 

And  so  for  the  last  time  he  journeyed  through  his  home 
on  his  way  south,  with  folded  lips,  in  his  heart  fore- 
knowledge of  death,  in  his  soul  the  courage  of  despair, 


HOLYLAND  337 

keeping  his  way  secret  as  far  as  he  could,  to  reserve  his 
strength  for  his  entry  into  the  capital.  .  .  .  But  his  com- 
panions went  with  him,  behind  him  and  before  him,  in 
joyous  array,  crying  aloud,  "The  long-expected  Saviour 
is  at  hand  !  The  great  transformation  is  at  hand  !  The 
great  day  is  come;  not  as  we  expected,  but  it  is  come. 
Wonders  are  taking  place.  Come  and  behold  them." 

The  agents  of  the  Nationalists  flew  ahead  like  crows  : 
"  Men  of  the  south,  pillars  of  the  Church,  hold  high  your 
heads.  He  is  at  hand,  he  is  at  hand,  and  he  says  he  is 
the  Saviour.  The  Saviour!  " 

And  a  wild  outcry  resounded  from  the  temples.  On  to 
the  south,  hour  after  hour,  onwards,  through  crowds, 
on  lonely  paths ;  as  they  went  their  souls  inspired  by  his 
vivid  words  to  the  belief  that  they  should  stand  armed 
and  ready  for  the  break  of  the  glorious  day  of  the  king- 
dom of  Heaven;  out  of  the  bloody  dawn  of  his  death. 
He  told  them  of  the  farmer's  son  who  had  left  his  home 
in  the  pride  of  his  heart  and  gone  out  into  the  evil  world, 
and,  after  wallowing  in  the  mire  and  falling  upon  bitter 
sorrow,  returned  home  and  been  lovingly  received  there. 
.  .  .  He  told  them  of  the  woman  who  lost  a  fourpenny- 
piece  and  searched  for  it  far,  far  into  the  night,  and  how 
her  heart  rejoiced  within  her  when  she  found  it.  ...  He 
told  them  of  the  shepherd's  long,  long  search  for  the 
lost  sheep.  He  had  a  hundred  sheep,  but  he  searched 
till  dawn  for  this  one  that  was  lost.  How  he  rejoiced 
when  he  found  it !  Behold,  of  such  worth  is  a  human 
soul  in  the  eyes  of  God  !  so  does  He  rejoice  over  it !  Take 
heed  of  your  souls,  that  are  so  cherished.  Take  heed 
that  they  are  worthy  of  the  kingdom  of  Heaven,  which 
is  now  drawing  near. 

The  train  that  followed  them  swelled  as  they  went  on. 
One  day  passed,  and  then  another,  and  the  capital  was, 
no  longer  far  away.  Then  the  pious  fools  stepped  once 
more  across  his  path.  They  wanted  to  force  him  to  weave 
a  net  for  himself  to  hold  him  in  its  meshes,  when  he 
raised  his  hand  and  said,  "I  am  the  Saviour — listen:  in 
the  books  it  is  written,  as  you  know,  '  If  the  man  please 
he  can  turn  away  his  wife.  Get  thee  hence,  woman ;  I 
will  behold  thee  no  longer.''  He  looked  down  upon 
them.  "  Marriage  means,  ye  are  one  for  life." 

He  was  the  first  to  put  the  weak  woman  beside  the 


338  HOLYLAND 

man  as  his  equal.  .  .  .  Women  of  the  world,  ye  owe 
him  much. 

They  stepped  back  in  silence.  He  was  greater  than 
the  ancient  writings. 

When  they  halted  for  the  night  the  mothers  came  to 
him  with  their  children  in  their  arms  and  holding  their 
hands,  and  asked  him  to  bless  them.  The  disciples,  like 
all  the  people  of  their  age,  wanted  to  turn  the  children 
coldly  away. 

"  Children?  Away  with  them !  Creatures  of  no 
account!  Beat  them,  drive  them  back!  " 

He  said,  "  In  the  kingdom  of  Heaven  there  are  none 
of  little  account;  all  shall  sit  at  the  feast,  all  shall  be 
filled.  And  the  children  above  all !  The  children  above 
all.  They  are  full  of  trust,  and  therefore  they  are  great 
in  the  kingdom  of  Heaven.  Be  as  the  children  are ! 
Come  hither,  mother,  come  hither  with  thy  babe."  He 
took  the  children  on  his  knee  and  kissed  them. 

He  was  the  first  to  bring  the  children  into  the  sunshine. 
He  was  the  first  to  put  the  children  beside  the  old  as 
their  equals.  Women  and  children  of  the  world !  ye 
owe  him  much. 

They  went  on  for  the  third  and  last  day. 

The  crowd  grew,  procession  after  procession  filling  the 
wide  road  on  their  way  to  the  capital.  Strangers  coming 
from  the  east  joined  them.  All  had  heard  of  the  holy 
hero,  and  now  hear  more  as  they  ran  whispering  together 
and  marvelling  over  his  mien  and  the  lofty  purity  of  that 
face,  in  which  already  burned  the  knowledge  of  death  like 
a  beacon  in  a  stormy  night.  The  sea  surged  round  him. 

A  rich  young  man  knelt  in  the  dust  before  him, 
"  Master,  what  can  I  do  to  enter  into  the  kingdom  of 
Heaven?  " 

And  he  bent  down  to  him  and  said,  "  Thou  knowest 
the  commandments :  '  Thou  shalt  not  bear  false 
witness  "... 

4 '  All  that  I  have  observed  .  .  .  since  I  was  a  child  .  .  . 
but  there  is  no  peace  in  my  soul." 

He  bent  down  further  to  him ;  the  young  man  pleased 
him  :  he  thought,  '  Here  is  a  soul  that  belongs  to  Thee. ' 
' '  One  thing  is  wanting  for  thy  peace  of  soul :  give  all 
thou  hast  to  the  poor  and  follow  me." 

Then  he  arose,  sighing  deeply,  and  staggered  away 
till  he  was  lost  to  sight  among  the  crowd. 


HOLYLAND  339 

"  How  hard  it  is  for  a  rich  man  to  enter  into  the 
kingdom  of  Heaven." 

The  crowd  swelled,  procession  joining  procession.  The 
decision  was  near. 

Two  of  the  disciples  came  up  to  him,  "  Lord,  promise 
us  that  we  shall  be  thy  lieutenants  afterwards." 

He  looked  at  them  in  trouble.  "  Are  ye  fain  to  die 
with  me?  " 

"  Yes,  Lord,  we  are  fain." 

His  eyes  shone  into  theirs.  "  It  shall  be  as  ye  say; 
ye  shall  die  with  me  for  my  sake,  and  afterwards  ye  shall 
rule  with  me.  But  God  alone  can  say  who  shall  be  second 
after  me  and  third.  ..."  He  turned  to  the  friends 
nearest  him,  "  Ye  must  not  let  yourselves  be  called  '  lord.' 
One  alone  is  our  Lord,  our  Father  in  Heaven.  In  the 
world  they  say :  Lord,  Lord ;  rule,  rule ;  but  ye  say : 
Serve,  serve,  as  much  service  as  possible.  Help  and  heal. 
Serve  as  I  serve,  who  give  up  my  life  to  free  thousands 
from  the  evil  and  meaningless  service  of  life,  and  give 
them  happiness  in  the  kingdom  of  Heaven." 

The  streets  of  the  little  town  outside  the  capital  surged 
with  the  excited  crowd.  On  the  branch  of  a  tree  there 
stood  a  little  man,  a  publican,  who  had  grown  rich  with 
the  money  he  had  extorted  from  a  poor  and  oppressed 
people.  In  his  eyes  was  reflected  the  trouble  of  his  uneasy 
conscience.  "Woe  is  me,  if  the  kingdom  come  now  and 
my  poor  soul  must  stand  outside,  though  it  yearns  for 
redemption." 

The  Saviour  saw  the  eyes  and  knew  them  for  such  as 
he  could  use.  "  Who  is  that  man?  " 

"  He  is  a  rogue.     A  traitor,  an  accursed  tax-gatherer." 

"  Come  down  from  the  tree;  I  will  eat  with  thee. " 

He  walked  by  him,  stumbling  and  tumbling  over  his 
words.  "  Lord  .  .  .  thou  wilt  be  my  guest!  .  .  .  thou 
art  so  gracious  unto  me.  Lord  .  .  .  therefore  will  I 
give  half  my  goods  to  the  poor  this  very  day,  because 
thou  hast  been  so  good  to  me !  Never,  never  will  I 
cheat  again." 

After  a  brief  midday  rest  he  went  on  his  way  on  the 
slowly  rising  road  that  led  to  the  capital,  his  disciples  half 
in  terror,  half  in  secret  exaltation ;  in  front,  behind,  and 
around  him  the  crowds  of  men  that  knew  and  honoured 
him,  burning  with  joy  and  expectation,  wonderful  visions 
in  their  souls. 

Z    2 


340  HOLYLAND 

In  the  village  just  outside  there  dwelt  a  family,  known 
to  him  from  former  feast  days ;  there  he  rested  for  the 
last  time.  An  ass  with  trappings  was  brought  out,  and 
on  it  he  proceeded. 

The  capital  lay  hid  behind  great  wooded  hills ;  but  now, 
near  the  bastions,  the  road  turned  round  the  last  hill,  and 
there  before  them  lay  the  town,  great  and  rich,  with  the 
mighty,  ancient  temple  in  the  midst,  so  vast  that  it  formed 
a  town  in  itself,  with  its  courts  and  cloisters  and  canonries. 
He  halted  and  looked  down  upon  the  town;  as  he  gazed 
and  beheld  the  houses,  the  temple,  the  castle,  and  heard 
the  murmur  of  the  great  rich  city  rise  to  his  ears,  there 
was  borne  in  upon  him  the  certainty  of  a  tragic  end  to 
come.  The  sorrow  of  that  moment,  and  terror  for  his 
dear  home,  overcame  him,  and  tears  sprang  to  his  eyes. 
But  only  for  a  moment.  "It  is  the  will  of  God  !  His 
will  be  done.  If  their  hearts  are  of  stone  mine  is  of 
diamond."  As  he  turned  to  his  followers  his  eyes  looked 
as  they  had  done  in  the  north  when  he  drove  from  him 
the  evil  spirits  of  doubt.  They  saw,  and  a  wild  outburst 
of  joy  broke  forth.  Garments  were  spread  upon  the  way 
and  the  street  was  full  of  palm  branches. 

"  The  kingdom  of  Heaven  is  at  hand  !  Help,  Lord  on 
high  !  " 

"  This  is  the  kingdom  of  Heaven." 
"  This  is  the  branch  of  the  ancient  royal  stem." 
"  A  time  of  joy  in  the  land  !     Help,  O  Lord  on  high  !  " 
Men  and  women  ran  and  cried  aloud  for  joy;  children 
leapt  and   sang ;   crowds  poured  out  of  the  houses   and 
from  the  mighty  courtyards  of  the  temple.     They  had  long 
ago  heard  of  his  coming  from  northern  pilgrims.     Mar- 
vellous was  the  noise  everywhere.     ' '  A  time  of  joy  in  the 
land.     Help,  O  Lord  !     The  kingdom  is  at  hand  !     Help 
us!  " 

The  clericals  stood  by  with  faces  white  as  death.  Two 
of  them  pressed  their  way  up  to  him,  "  Forbid  this  mad 
cry!  "  He  looked  at  them  in  lofty  scorn,  "Were  they 
silent,  the  walls  would  cry  out." 

The  whole  town  was  in  an  uproar.  The  governor  and 
his  mercenaries  looked  down  from  the  citadel  in  horror 
to  this  mighty  stirring  of  the  people.  There  were  some 
who  asked,  "  Who  is  he?  Who  is  he?  "  but  the  masses 
knew.  "It  is  the  pure  and  holy  hero  from  the  north. 


HOLYLAND  341 

He  says  he  is  the  Saviour.  He  says  that  the  marvel  is  at 
hand,  the  kingdom  of  Heaven  is  at  hand." 

There  stood  the  vast  and  costly  temple  buildings,  old 
and  new;  in  the  courts  and  in  the  halls  the  gay  turmoil 
of  the  market,  oxen  and  calves  in  long  rows,  there  a  herd 
of  sheep,  there  birds  in  cages,  there  cartloads  of  grapes. 
Imperial  gold  was  exchanged  for  the  currency  of  the 
Church  at  the  shining  counter  of  the  money-changer. 
"  Give  the  best  of  your  money  and  your  goods,  O  people. 
Give  the  sweat  of  your  brows  !  Here  !  There — God  is 
content  with  you;  you  are  great  in  His  sight." 

Poor  people  !  what  a  God  is  this ;  thy  priests  lay  upon 
thee  a  double  poverty ;  they  take  away  thy  daily  bread  and 
they  corrupt  thy  heart  so  that  thou  canst  not  see  the 
truth. 

The  man  from  the  north  knows  another  God ;  he  does 
not  want  hands  full  of  gold,  but  hearts  full  of  courage, 
purity,  and  brotherly  love;  not  churches  and  feasts 
and  crowds  of  priests,  but  right  and  justice  in  the  land. 

The  hero,  the  Saviour,  stood  in  the  midst  of  the  temple 
and  raised  his  clear  voice.  The  table  by  one  of  the  money- 
changers overturned  ;  the  market  women  began  to  scream, 
sheep  ran  about,  cages  fell  over.  Terrified  by  his  lofty 
presence  and  the  force  of  his  words,  the  sextons  fled.  "  I 
say  unto  you  in  the  name  of  God,  '  My  house  shall  be  a 
house  of  prayer. '  Ye  murderers,  ye  robbers,  is  this  your 
Hell?" 

The  town  was  filled  with  wild  excitement.  The  deed 
was  monstrous.  The  timid  flee,  the  heavy  tramp  of  the 
soldiers  already  in  their  ears.  The  rest  of  the  crowds  from 
the  north  rejoice.  The  priests  stood  in  impotent  rage  at 
the  doors  of  their  houses.  The  righteous  and  the  just 
looked  at  him  with  earnest  eyes  and  closed  lips.  "  This 
means  death  for  thee,  thou  brave  and  stainless  one." 

The  court  was  now  empty  of  all  worldly  traffic;  the 
Church  was  pure.  The  kingdom  of  God  established. 
Pure  hearts  are  in  unison  with  God,  and  their  hands  lie 
in  their  brothers'  !  The  crowd  pressed  close  tr  him. 
His  soul  exulted.  "  I  shall  win  them  all,  all !  The  way 
is  straight  into  the  joyful  kingdom  of  heaven.  I  need  not 
taste  the  bitterness  of  death.  ..." 

But  in  a  remote  court  the  clericals  were  gathered  to- 
gether. "He  must  die.  That  is  clear.  But  caution! 


342  HOLYLAND 

the  stupid  people  are  on  his  side.     He  must  die.   .  .  . 
that  is  clear." 

For  two  days  he  was  king  of  the  multitude,  ruling  in 
the  courts  and  in  the  halls.  The  temple  was  purified  of 
worldly  things;  the  feet  of  bearers  carrying  out  the  sick 
rang  out  clear  on  the  stone  flags.  Raised  to  something 
almost  superhuman  in  these  hours  of  spiritual  elevation 
by  the  consciousness  of  seeking  nothing  for  himself,  doing 
all  as  the  servant  of  God,  he  wielded  a  marvellous  power. 
Children  stood  in  crowds  between  the  pillars,  shouting 
out  the  cries  by  which  men  had  summoned  the  Saviour  of 
old;  thousands  lay  at  his  feet;  fresh  crowds  listened  to 
his  words,  rapt  by  his  wisdom  and  goodness,  slaking  the 
thirst  of  their  famishing  souls.  For  centuries  the  high 
places  of  the  land  had  been  filled  by  mere  shadows  of 
men,  mere  tools  of  corruption ;  never  by  a  man  genuine 
and  pure  of  heart  like  this  one. 

How  genuine  he  is  !  how  pure  !  how  simple  !  " 
Yes,  the  Saviour  must  be  such  a  man." 
A  scion  of  the  ancient  kings." 
He  is  not  descended  from  a  royal  race." 
Is  he  not?  " 

Then   he   is    an    impostor!" 

That   is   not   true;    look   at   his   face;    listen   to   his 
words — can  that  be  an  impostor?  " 

Two  elders  of  the  Church  appeared  in  the  gateway, 
tall  and  dignified  men,  and  approached  him.  "  Make  way 
there." 

The  crowd  makes  way. 

They  come  up  to  him  and  say,  "  We  ask  thee  with 
what  authority  art  thou  come?  " 

He  looked  at  them  in  bitter  scorn.  "  Tell  me,  had  the 
hero  who  stood  in  the  stream  a  year  ago,  preaching  con- 
version, divine  authority?  or  was  he  an  impostor?  " 

They  dared  not  say  he  was  an  impostor;  the  people 
knew  him  for  a  pure  and  true  man ;  they  shrugged  their 
shoulders  and  went  their  way.  Like  the  clang  of  steel 
there  fell  on  their  ears  the  parable  of  the  evil  tenants, 
"They  killed  the  servants  whom  the  householder  sent, 
and  the  householder  had  one  dear  son  .  .  .  him  also  they 
killed.  I  say  unto  you,  the  Lord  will  give  the  vineyard 
unto  other  husbandmen." 

The  high  priests  were  defeated ;  they  were  far  removed 


HOLYLAND  343 

from  the  people,  immersed  in  the  world  of  books;  yet 
most  of  them  were  honourable  men  in  the  main.  But  now 
the  black  spies,  the  pious  knaves,  appeared  again ;  how 
they  rubbed  their  hands ;  what  inspiration  sparkled  in 
their  eyes  !  Inspiration,  indeed. 

"  Master,  we  know  that  thou  art  true  and  carest  not 

for  anyone,   for  thou  regardest  not  the  person  of  men. 

.   .  .  Our  mind  is  troubled,  .  .  .  tell  us,  may  our  pious 

people  pay  tribute  to  the  Emperor?  .  .  .  you  know  the 

Emperor  is  a  heretic?  " 

What  now?  If  he  said  "No,  no  tribute,"  the 
imperial  tax-collectors  would  seize  upon  him,  and 
they  would  be  rid  of  him  so.  If  he  said  "Yes,"  the 
people  would  turn  against  him,  for  the  tribute  was  thrice 
hateful,  because  it  was  heavy,  because  it  went  to  a  heretic, 
and  because  it  went  out  of  the  country.  If  he  had  been 
a  man  of  low  aims  !  but  his  ideals  were  of  a  loftier  sort. 
"  Ye  hypocrites,  if  ye  carry  the  Emperor's  money  in  your 
pockets,  pay  him  tribute  with  it.  ...  Pay  and  trouble 
no  more  about  it.  Think  of  your  souls  .  .  .  see  that 
they  do  the  will  of  God." 

So  they,  too,  went  their  way. 

In  the  evening  some  of  the  courtiers  from  the  castle 
came  to  him,  a  strange  mixture  of  frivolity  and  piety  in 
their  mien,  such  as  is  characteristic  of  such  men.  They 
had  been  discussing  the  events  of  the  day  at  dinner  and 
come  to  the  conclusion  "  One  must  not  treat  so-called 
heroes  too  seriously."  What  did  such  men  care  for  the 
condition  of  the  people?  They  came,  smiling  with  a  kind 
of  inebriated  pretence  of  piety.  "  Master,  in  the  old 
chronicles  it  stands,  if  a  man  die,  having  no  children,  his 
brother  shall  marry  his  widow.  Now,  suppose  the  woman 
married  seven  brothers  in  turn,  in  the  resurrection  whose 
wife  shall  she  be?  " 

He  answers  shortly  and  sternly,  "  In  the  resurrection 
there  is  no  marrying  nor  giving  in  marriage ;  they  are  as 
angels  in  Heaven." 

Then  a  respectable  man  came  up  to  him,  desiring  to 
know,  in  one  word,  for  the  comfort  of  his  own  soul  and 
the  souls  of  all  those  that  stood  there,  what  was  the 
mysterious  source  from  which  as  from  a  spring  this  pure 
and  wondrous  life  should  come.  "Tell  me,  which  is  the 
first  of  all  commandments?  " 


344  HOLYLAND 

The  Saviour  turned  to  him  and  compressed  into  one 
word  all  the  hundred  commandments  of  the  Church. 
"Thou  shalt  love  God  with  all  thy  heart  and  soul,  and 
thy  neighbour  as  thyself;  that  is  righteousness.  Any- 
thing else  is  the  superfluous  and  baneful  invention  of  men. 
This  is  the  great  and  first  commandment." 

The  questioner's  eyes  shone.  There  were  many,  many 
shining  eyes  there. 

But  many  indifferent,  too.  "  My  father  and  my  grand- 
father were  good  men,  and  they  contented  themselves 
with  the  ancient  precepts." 

And  many  doubters!  "It  is  a  dangerous  business; 
who  knows  what  the  issue  will  be." 

"  I  have  a  house  and  a  small  field." 

And  here  and  there  a  mocker.  ' '  You  will  not  enter  the 
kingdom  of  Heaven."  "  I  don't  want  to;  it's  too  clean." 
"  A  strange  saint,  this. "  All  these  men  faltered  and  then 
dropped  out. 

All  the  time  the  clericals  were  busy  spying  and  prying. 
For  two  days  he  had  preached ;  preached  and  conquered. 
What  do  such  conquests  effect?  The  whirligig  of  time 
brings  round  its  revenges.  The  clericals  were  busy. 
"It  is  absurd.  This  the  Saviour !  Is  he  descended 
from  a  royal  race;  is  he  not  a  craftsman  from  a  corner 
of  the  country  where  they  are  all  of  mixed  descent !  and 
all  sorts  of  strangers  come  pouring  across  the  border." 

He  heard  the  conflict;  he  saw  that  all  was  lost  if  he 
could  not  conquer  here.  He  told  them  it  did  not  stand  in 
the  sacred  books  that  the  Saviour  must  be  of  royal  race; 
but  words  were  vain ;  this  belief  was  fixed  firmly  in  their 
minds.  He  had  nothing  to  give  to  the  animal  instincts 
of  men;  there  was  nothing  in  his  hands  but  godliness, 
purity,  and  truth,  and  this  will  not  satisfy  a  people,  not 
even  for  three  days. 

And  the  angels  of  the  Lord  came  not. 

They  are  busy  compounding  reason  and  folly,  truth 
and  misery,  fear  and  blood ;  and  gradually  they  conquer. 
He  does  not  quail.  More  and  more  clearly  he  sees  that 
defeat  must  come ;  he  only  grows  firmer,  more  unbending ; 
in  his  soul  there  grew,  stronger  and  stronger,  the  mystic 
faith.  "God  is  yet  with  me."  He  sought  in  the  old 
books  for  all  that  could  strengthen  that  proud  faith  in 
the  midst  of  the  terrors  that  lay  round  him  like  the  terrible 


HOLYLAND  345 

beasts  of  darkness.  If  death  were  to  come,  the  books 
foretold  resurrection  and  return;  if  not  in  three  days, 
later ;  return  with  all  the  might  of  God  !  Then  the  king- 
dom of  Heaven  !  He  must  believe,  or  he  could  not  bear 
the  burden.  Thank  Heaven  for  the  words  of  the  books. 

That  evening,  as  he  left  the  temple  for  the  last  time, 
his  dispirited  disciples  looked  at  him  with  anxiety  in  their 
eyes.  "  Teacher,  look  at  these  mighty  stone  walls;  they 
have  stood  for  a  thousand  years ;  wilt  thou,  alone,  attack 
them?  " 

Then  he  revealed  to  them  the  picture  of  the  future 
outlined  by  his  tortured  soul. 

' '  When  I  am  dead  then  shall  be  bitter  travail  in  the 
land.  Again  and  again  will  the  ancient  foes  attack  the 
land  from  without,  and  false  beliefs  rend  it  within ; 
children  will  rise  against  their  parents ;  there  shall  be 
division  between  brother  and  sister.  And  all  this  shall 
be  as  a  sign  of  the  coming  of  the  kingdom  of  Heaven 
upon  earth.  The  son  of  man  shall  come  with  might  and 
glory  from  heaven  unto  earth  and  bring  to  pass  the 
kingdom  of  Heaven  upon  earth.  Be  not  afraid  !  Endure  ! 
I  shall  return." 

And  they  asked  him,  trembling,  "  When  shall  these 
things  be?  " 

To  that  he  can  give  no  answer.  "  It  shall  be  in  your 
lifetime.  Suddenly.  Be  on  the  watch.  Watch  and 
pray!" 

And  while  he  brooded  and  wrestled  with  his  own  soul — 
"  Be  strong!  quail  not — that  is  to  betray  thy  Father  in 
Heaven,"  strengthening  his  soul  with  wondrous  dreams 
of  the  future — the  clericals  were  busy  plotting  for  his 
speedy  destruction. 

He  had  the  true  hero's  belief  in  all  mankind,  and  among 
the  disciples  there  was  one  who  was  traitrous  and  weak. 
When  he  saw  that  things  were  going  ill  in  the  capital,  the 
little  faith  and  courage  he  had  had  deserted  him,  and  "  his 
opinions  changed";  "scales  seemed  to  fall  from  his 
eyes,"  and  vanity  reinforced  the  charge.  He  went  to 
the  men  of  darkness.  "Give  me  so  much,"  he  said, 
"  and  to-morrow  night  I  will  lead  you  to  a  place  where 
you  can  capture  him  without  difficulty." 

They  listened  to  him  without  shame ;  no  one  leapt  to 
his  feet  and  said,  "Away  with  the  rascal;  I  cannot  bear 


346  HOLYLAND 

to  look  upon  him."  After  a  brief  discussion  they  decided 
on  doing  the  deed — to-day.  No  one  came  forward  in  his 
defence ;  no  one  cried  out  in  his  anxiety ;  not  one  of  these 
shadows  had  the  least  suspicion  of  what  they  were  de- 
stroying ;  they  merely  stared  with  the  stupid  eyes  of  fishes 
at  the  golden  crown  which  had  fallen  into  their  pond. 
All  were  rotten  to  the  core.  Among  all  these  ghosts  the 
appointed  victim  alone  had  the  breath  of  life  in  his  frame. 

Evening  came.  The  behaviour  of  the  enemy  and  the 
disappearance  of  the  scoundrel  had  warned  the  hero  and 
his  disciples  to  expect  the  attack  that  night. 

For  the  last  time  he  sat  down  to  table  with  his  disciples. 
It  was  an  ancient  custom  to  keep  this  day  as  a  feast, 
with  all  the  means  at  the  householders'  disposal.  He 
passed  round  lamb's-flesh,  broken  bread,  and  wine  in  cups, 
while  offering  thanks  in  a  short  prayer,  in  which  he 
recalled  the  gloom  of  past  times  when  God  had  stood  by 
them  as  their  ally. 

At  first  he  spoke  with  some  sadness  of  his  pleasure  in 
having  been  permitted  by  his  enemies  to  enjoy  the  hour 
of  peace  in  the  celebration  of  this  ancient  custom.  But 
when  the  first  wine  cup  went  round  the  horror  of  his 
imminent  doom  rose  hideous  before  him ;  looking  at  them 
he  said  sadly,  "  I  shall  not  drink  wine  with  you  again; 
but  when  my  Father's  kingdom  comes  we  will  drink 
together  thus  in  a  pure  and  blessed  land."  Listen!  is 
that  the  soldiers'  feet?  Murmuring  a  grace  he  broke 
the  bread,  terror  in  his  heart.  "  Thus  it  shall  be  with 
my  body;  broken  even  thus."  Once  more  the  red  wine 
flowed  into  the  cup ;  he  saw  his  own  blood  flow,  and 
thinking  of  the  old  alliance  with  God,  said,  "  I  give  my 
blood  that  God  may  make  a  new  and  stronger  alliance 
with  my  people."  They  rose  from  the  meal  and  went  out 
into  the  night.  Listen — is  that  the  tramp  of  soldiers  in 
the  street? 

He  took  the  arm  of  his  hot-headed  disciple  and 
said  to  him  in  a  low,  quick  voice,  "Listen;  I  know 
that  the  devil  will  try  to  tempt  you  from  my  side.  I  have 
prayed  God  earnestly  that  thou,  the  bravest  of  all,  mayst 
not  lose  thy  faith  in  me  and  my  return.  If  thou  recoverest 
from  thy  terror,  strengthen  thy  brethren. ' ' 

The  hot-head  boasted  loudly,  "I?  terror?  I  am  ready, 
now,  this  moment,  to  go  with  thee  to  imprisonment  and 
death." 


HOLYLAND  347 

Then  the  hero  said,  "This  very  night,  before  cock 
crow,  thou  wilt  desert  me." 

His  soul  quailed  as  he  went  on ;  the  joy  of  the  past 
stood  out  in  bitter  contrast  to  the  sorrow  of  the  present. 
"Do  you  remember  how  I  sent  ye  forth,  in  the  north? 
Did  ye  ever  want  for  anything?  " 

They  all  shook  their  heads.     "  No,  never." 

"  But  now!     Think;  ye  must  be  armed  like  soldiers." 

"Two  of  us  have  swords."  But  thus  they  turned  off 
on  that  false  track  on  which  he  must  not  stray,  however, 
and  sorely  his  soul  longed  for  safety.  He  broke  off 
quickly.  "  Enough  of  that." 

They  came  into  an  orchard  and  weariness  came  over 
most  of  them.  They  threw  themselves  down  on  the  grass 
and  slept.  Three  of  the  most  faithful  went  on  with  him ; 
but  they,  too,  were  sorrowful  and  weary,  and  sank  down. 

A  feeling  of  utter  desolation  came  over  him  and  he 
begged  them,  "  My  soul  is  exceeding  sorrowful ;  even  unto 
death  ;  abide  with  me. "  They  lay  resting  on  their  elbows, 
sorrowful  and  weary,  unable  to  say  anything.  His  weary, 
lonely  soul  turned  from  men  to  the  Eternal  Power,  "  Oh, 
my  Father,  if  it  be  possible,  let  this  cup  pass  away  from 
me!  nevertheless,  not  as  I  will,  but  as  Thou  wilt." 

Then  turning  to  his  friends,  "  I  beg  ye,  watch  with 
me  .  .  .  thou,  my  faithful  one,  wilt  thou  not  watch  with 
me?" 

Again  he  turned  from  them  to  the  Eternal,  kneeling  and 
praying.  "If  it  be  possible  .  .  .  not  my  will,  but 
Thine.  .  .  .  Father,  is  it  not  possible?  " 

It  is  not  possible ;  the  unfathomable  law  of  creation  has 
decreed  for  man  death  and  sorrow ;  progress  is  only 
gained  by  the  sufferings  of  the  best  among  mankind. 

He  knew  it,  and  took  his  trembling  soul  in  both  his 
hands.  "Not  my  will,  but  Thine." 

So  he  lay  half  the  night  through.  And  the  report  is 
true  that  he  found  consolation. 

Then  came  the  clang  of  arms.  Amid  the  smoke  of  the 
torches  stood  the  betrayer.  .  .  .  The  swords  flashed. 
The  disciples  fled. 

They  led  him  into  the  town  in  their  midst,  into  the  court 
of  the  high  priest.  And  in  the  courtyard  soldiers  sat  and 
lounged  around  the  fire ;  servants  came  and  went ;  all 
kinds  of  miserable  wretches,  dependents  of  the  Church, 
had  gathered  together  there  by  order.  In  the  half  dark- 


348  HOLYLAND 

ness,  at  one  side  of  the  fire,  a  short  colloquy  went  on, 
with  much  pointing  of  fingers. 

"  Thou  wast  with  him." 

"I  ...  what  nonsense  !  ' ' 

"  Thy  speech  betray eth  thee.  Thou  art  from  the 
north." 

"  May  I  be  accursed.  ...  I  have  never  seen  him  in 
my  life."  He  stood  there,  pale  as  death,  with  trembling 
hands.  The  high  priests  went  by.  He  slunk  out ;  reach- 
ing the  gate  in  safety  he  went  out  into  the  dark  street  and 
wept  bitterly. 

Morning  comes,  and  the  elders  of  the  Church  assemble. 
The  affair  has  been  cunningly  contrived ;  make  him  a 
political  criminal  and  he  falls  into  the  hands  of  the  civil 
power.  "  The  State  is  our  bailiff;  its  justice  is  speedy." 
They  asked  him,  therefore,  one  question  only,  "Are  you 
the  Saviour,  the  king  of  the  people?  " 

The  hero  prisoner  raised  his  head ;  in  those  pure  eyes 
there  burned  a  light  that  was  not  of  this  world.  "  I  am 
he!  and  ye  shall  see  me  the  Saviour,  on  the  Almighty's 
right  hand,  descended  upon  earth  in  a  cloud  from 
Heaven."  That  was  enough. 

Day  had  broken.  He  was  handed  over  to  the  watch 
and  led  into  the  imperial  office. 

The  whole  town  was  awake;  crowds  filled  the  streets. 
Many  a  fist  was  clenched ;  angry  tears  stood  in  many  an 
eye ;  but  the  gate  closed  behind  him ;  he  was  fallen  into 
hard  hands  of  fearful  strength. 

He  was  accused  before  the  governor  as  a  political 
offender.  The  governor,  an  elderly  man,  had  seen  strange 
customs  in  many  lands,  and  accommodated  himself  readily 
enough  to  them  all ;  like  many  men  in  high  office,  he  had 
either  quite  forgotten,  or  never  known,  any  respect  for 
individual  consciences.  He  looked  at  the  accused  before 
him  and  said,  "  You  are  the  king  of  this  people?  " 

"  You  are  right. " 

The  governor  looked  at  him  again.  "  He  seems  to  me 
a  harmless  creature;  I  shall  let  him  go." 

But  the  pious  rabble  that  stood  crowded  behind  the 
pillars  cried,  "  Crucify  him,  crucify  him  !  " 

This  was  the  imperial  punishment  for  treason.  The 
condemned  was  bound  or  nailed  hand  and  foot  to  an 
upright  stake,  and  left  to  hang  there  till  he  died.  Many 
thousands  had  perished  thus. 


HOLYLAND  349 

The  most  important  dignitary  of  the  Church  went  up 
and  spoke  in  low  tones  to  the  governor.  He  was  really 
a  traitor;  he  had  a  great  following,  especially  in  the 
north ;  if  he  let  the  man  go  ...  the  Emperor  was  said 
to  be  very  sensitive  on  the  question  of  treason.  .  .  .  The 
hint  was  understood.  The  governor's  advancement  came 
before  justice.  The  hero  from  the  north  was  condemned 
as  a  revolutionary  and  pretender  by  the  law  of  the  State 
to  be  scourged  and  then  bound  to  a  stake  until  he  died. 

The  blows  of  the  scourge  cut  his  flesh  to  the  bone ;  he 
endured  the  extremity  of  physical  and  spiritual  anguish. 
His  strength  was  absolutely  exhausted  when  the  blows 
ceased ;  he  could  not  even  support  the  stake  which  he  had 
to  carry  to  the  place  of  execution;  a  man  who  happened 
to  be  by  had  to  carry  it  for  him.  Two  men,  condemned 
to  the  same  sentence  for  street  robbery,  were  led  with  him 
to  the  place  of  execution. 

They  stripped  him  on  the  bare  hillside  above  the  town, 
laid  him  down  and  fastened  him  to  the  stake.  Powerful 
hands  seized  him  and  raised  him  up.  The  soldiers  offered 
him  of  their  drink,  but  he  did  not  take  it;  he  was  too 
weak.  Some  of  the  scribes  and  some  people  in  the  mob 
mocked  at  the  dying  man,  and  the  two  thieves  also, 
"  Thou  art  the  king  !  help  thyself,  then  !  "  No  one  knows 
what  passed  within  him.  He  said  no  more.  To  the  last 
he  must  have  cherished  a  faint  hope  that  his  Father  in 
Heaven  would  spare  him  the  crowning  bitterness.  But 
no  ten  thousand  angels  came.  Not  one  came.  Not  one 
of  his  disciples,  not  one  of  his  relations  was  there.  After 
he  had  hung  there  a  few  hours  he  died  of  loss  of  blood 
and  suffocation. 

Such  was  his  life. 

Such  was  his  death. 

He  was  the  fairest  of  the  children  of  men. 

The  scattered  disciples  had  fled  in  twos  and  threes 
to  the  north  to  save  their  lives.  Arrived  there,  terror- 
stricken  and  exhausted,  they  began  cautiously  to  speak  of 
him.  He  had  certainly  believed,  he  had  said  to  them  defi- 
nitely, "I  shall  return!  soon!  on  the  third  day!  I  tell 
you,  I  shall  return,  clad  in  divine  authority." 

Three  days  .  .  .  eight  .  .  .  went  by.  He  did  not 
come. 

"  He  must  come.     He  cannot  lie;  he  cannot  be  mis- 


350  HOLYLAND 

taken.  It  is  quite  impossible  that  any  grave,  however 
deep,  should  hold  such  a  hero  in.  How  he  loved  God  ! 
How  he  trusted  Him  ?  Did  he  not  say,  '  Would  a  mortal 
father  give  the  child,  that  asked  him  for  bread,  a  stone? 
and  should  the  Almighty,  Whom  he  trusted  so,  give  him 
a  stone  ?  '  How  he  loved  us  !  What  a  pure  and  gracious 
being  he  was ;  how  he  uplifted  our  hearts.  Oh,  Lord, 
what  can  we  do  without  thee?  Return,  O  Saviour, 
bring  to  pass  the  Heavenly  Kingdom  !  We  need  thee 
so." 

"  He  must  return,"  said  the  old  chronicles.  "  He  must 
return,"  whispered  men,  looking  around  them  with  yearn- 
ing eyes.  "  He  must  return,"  whispered  the  lake  and 
the  woods  and  the  wind  there  where  he  had  been  only 
fourteen  days  ago.  "  I  must  see  him  again,"  said  Peter, 
who  had  denied  him,  "  or  I  cannot  live." 

"Listen!     Did  you  see  anything,  Peter?" 

Next  day  the  first  rumour  arose.  In  the  evening  Peter 
had  seen  him  walking  along  the  beach,  where  he  had 
walked  so  often ;  there  in  the  darkness  he  had  stood,  a 
friendly  spirit,  his  eyes  fixed  upon  him. 

The  next  day  a  new  rumour  spread  from  village  to  vil- 
lage. His  old  friends,  the  fishers,  had  been  sitting  on  the 
beach  that  evening  eating  their  supper  of  bread  and  fish 
round  the  coke  fire.  The  fire  blazed,  the  sea  roared,  the 
stars  shone  in  the  sky,  the  night  folded  them  in  her  giant 
arms,  and  they  spoke  of  him.  "Do  you  remember? 
Then  .  .  .  yes,  and  that  other  time  .  .  .  what  truth 
he  had;  what  understanding  .  .  .  and  how  good  he 
always  was  ...  a  dear  gracious  being.  .  .  Do  you  re- 
member how  we  sat  here  .  .  .  here  on  the  beach  ...  at 
our  evening  meal  round  the  fire,  the  fire  blazing  as  it  is 
now  and  the  sea  roaring ;  and  he  sat  among  us  and  prayed 
in  his  dear  voice?  .  .  .  Oh,  God.  .  .  Look,  then!  .  .  . 
Did  you  see?  I  have  seen  him  !  He  stood  there  just 
behind  you  !  " 

Another  evening  three  of  his  disciples  were  walking  in 
the  darkness  on  a  lonely  road  leading  to  the  south, 
in  deep  converse  about  him;  they  wandered  on  and  on, 
children  of  an  age  where  all  the  world  was  an  enchanted 
garden  and  the  night  the  home  of  mystery;  the  wounds 
of  their  souls  burned,  their  love  to  the  wonderful  man 
glowed.  .  .  "  And  they  saw  him?  Was  it  really  he? 
He  lives?  He  lives  !  Where  is  he  now?  It  was  about 


HOLYLAND  351 

this  time  that  they  saw  him ;  what  does  he  look  like  ? 
Dear,  they  said,  and  shining  .  .  .  yes,  dear  and  shining 
.  .  .  perhaps  he  is  with  us,  invisible  .  .  .  suddenly  there 
comes  a  flash  of  light,  and  he  stands  there  by  the  tree.  .  . 
Did  you  see  anything?  Oh  .  .  .  calm  your  fevered 
heart!  ..." 

They  came  home  with  burning  eyes ;  they  had  seen 
him.  "  He  went  past  us  in  the  darkness  and  dis- 
appeared." 

There  was  no  stopping  now. 

Since  waking  eyes  might  not  behold  him,  the  yearning 
eyes  of  faith,  shining  with  passionate  love,  saw  him. 
Since  he  came  not  in  the  clear  light  of  day  they  saw  his 
apparition  in  the  darkness. 

Weeks  went  by.  .  .  Since  he  came  not  in  his  glory  he 
could  not  hold  his  place  as  a  wandering  light ;  the  appari- 
tions faded  away  like  mirages  in  a  few  weeks.  But  the 
legends  of  the  apparitions  grew,  expanding  what  had  been 
seen. 

Years  went  by;  he  never  came;  they  still  spoke  of 
him.  He  had  stirred  their  hearts. 

Gradually  there  collected  among  the  fisher  folk  and 
the  moor  dwellers  a  band  of  believers  who  accepted  him 
as  the  Saviour  and  hoped  daily,  with  glowing  faith, 
for  the  day  of  his  return  to  bring  the  Kingdom  of 
Heaven. 

Years  went  by.  The  band  of  those  who  spoke  of  him 
and  believed  in  his  return,  grew,  extending  as  far  as  the 
capital,  and  from  there,  through  holiday  visitors,  to  their 
compatriots  in  the  great  imperial  city,  including  every 
country  and  every  kind  of  superstition :  Syrians  and 
Egyptians,  German  soldiers  and  Greek  workmen.  They 
painted  and  decorated  the  story  of  the  Saviour's  life. 
These  children  of  a  wild  and  restless  age  dwelt  in  an 
enchanted  world ;  when  two  or  three  were  gathered  together 
they  whispered  the  legends  of  his  life  with  beaming  eyes. 

And  so  the  brave  and  simple  life  became  more  and  more 
marvellous.  — - 

"  I  have  been  told  by  someone  who  heard  it  from  one 
of  the  disciples  that  he  walked  upon  the  sea." 

"Yes,  and  have  you  heard  the  story  of  how  he  com- 
manded the  storm?  " 

"  Have  you  heard — I  was  told  by  someone  who  came 
from  the  place — that  once  four  thousand  people  followed 


352  HOLYLAND 

him  across  the  moors?  And  he  fed  them  all,  just  think, 
with  seven  loaves  !  " 

"  No;  there  were  five  thousand  people,  and  he  had  five 
loaves ;  and  afterwards  they  collected  twelve  baskets  of 
fragments." 

"  He  raised  a  man  from  the  dead." 

"  The  greatest  is  that  he  himself  rose  from  the  dead." 

"  Yes,  that  is  certain;  he  appeared  to  all  his  disciples." 

4 '  The  watch  over  the  tomb  was  broken  up. ' ' 

"  He  ate  and  drank  with  them.     They  ate  fish." 

"  Once  when  I  was  at  home  for  a  feast  I  heard  that  he 
had  appeared  to  five  hundred  people  at  once." 

"  He  rose  up  to  Heaven  before  their  eyes." 

"To  Heaven?  What  will  he  do  there?  He  is  going 
to  establish  the  Kingdom  of  Heaven  upon  earth." 

"  Yes,  he  will  return.     He  has  only  gone  for  a  time." 

"  Yes,  indeed,  he  is  in  Heaven  now;  else  he  was  still 
among  us,  for  he  certainly  rose  from  the  dead." 

All  that  they  had  desired  in  vain  from  the  son  of  man, 
heavenly  descent,  a  royal  lineage,  supernatural  marvels, 
resurrection  :  all  this  was  now  attributed  to  him  by  pas- 
sionate love,  poetic  fancy,  and  religious  longing. 

So  they  spoke  and  waited. 

One  year  after  another  passed.  They  prayed  as  he  had 
taught  them  to  their  Heavenly  Father,  "  Thy  kingdom 
come";  they  lived  pure  lives  and  helped  one  another, 
happy  in  their  longing. 

Some  of  the  disciples  died. 

And  yet  he  had  said,  "  I  shall  return  in  your  lifetime." 

They  waited  and  waited. 

He  did  not  come. 

And  because  he  did  not  come  as  he  had  promised  there 
was  a  danger  that  his  followers  might  remain  a  narrow 
national  sect;  that  his  life  had  been  lived  in  vain  and 
would  be  forgotten ;  that  the  salvation  of  humanity,  the 
glorious  purpose  for  which  he  had  died,  might  be  lost. 
There  was  a  danger  that  this  gracious  tender  personality 
might  float  away  like  a  perfume  that  is  shed. 

But  a  man  of  might  arose,  a  strange,  strong  man,  to  be 
his  preserver  and  his  herald. 

Not  far  from  his  home  there  dwelt  a  man  of  the  same 
race,  a  Nationalist  and  clerical ;  a  man  of  deep  learning, 
wide  and  general  education  and  experience  and  keen  intel- 
lect. Yet  he  was  diseased,  through  and  through.  In 


HOLYLAND  353 

many  passages  in  his  letters  to  his  friends  he  expounded 
the  nature  of  his  disease;  he  was  tortured  by  nervous  at- 
tacks, in  which  life  appeared  a  scene  of  misery,  horror  and 
death,  attacks  aggravated  at  times  to  epileptic  fits,  during 
which  he  saw  in  ,a  trance  wondrous  visions  of  heavenly 
glory  and  beauty.  He  was  a  little  younger  than  the  hero 
of  the  north  and  had  never  seen  him. 

With  some  of  the  educated  men  of  his  time  and  country 
he  shared  a  very  peculiar  faith ;  that  time  of  disturbance 
suggested  strange  theories  to  imaginative  minds.  His 
belief,  passionately  and  ardently  held,  was  briefly  as  fol- 
lows : — God,  in  the  fulness  of  His  eternal  might,  will  send 
down  from  the  heavenly  regions  the  Saviour,  an  eternal 
and  heavenly  being.  This  eternal  and  heavenly  being, 
who  had  been  God's  right  hand  in  the  creation  of  the 
world,  greater  and  more  glorious  than  the  angels  of  God, 
will  conceal  his  heavenly  majesty  in  a  human  form.  As  the 
Saviour  he  will  fight  the  evil  men  and  spirits  that  possess 
this  wicked  world ;  will  conquer  them  or  perish.  At  the 
last  he  will  conquer  with  the  aid  of  God  and  His  angels 
and  free  mankind  from  all  evil.  And  this  eternal  heavenly 
being  is  coming  soon ;  it  must  be  soon.  How  full  my  life 
and  the  lives  of  all  men  are  of  misery,  sorrow  and  distress. 
It  may  come  any  day.  Heavenly  being  !  gracious  vision  ! 
Saviour  !  The  Kingdom  of  Heaven  !  come,  come ;  the 
world  is  ripe. 

When  this  man,  holding  this  faith,  heard  that  there  was 
a  sect  in  the  north  which  maintained  that  the  Saviour  had 
already  appeared  on  earth  in  the  guise  of  a  carpenter, 
that  he  had  been  denied  and  killed  by  the  pious  authori- 
ties of  the  Church,  but  had  risen  again  and  would  soon 
return,  he  was  consumed  by  excitement  and  rage.  It  was 
impossible.  His  Church  had  denied  the  holy  one  sent  by 
God?  The  righteous  in  the  land  had  not  recognised  the 
heavenly  being?  .  .  .  Calling  for  assistance  from  the 
State  he  hunted  them  down  and  prosecuted  them 
zealously. 

But  his  faith  gave  him  no  peace ;  it  was  cold  and  mean- 
ingless ;  the  mere  skeleton  of  a  faith,  without  the  flesh 
and  blood  of  life.  Sick  in  mind  and  body  he  longed  for 
this  life.  "  Lord,  send  the  heavenly  being  soon  !  Lord, 
how  will  he  appear  when  he  comes?  How  will  he  come?  " 

Pondering  one  day  over  the  "  false  Saviour,"  he  went 
along  a  lonely  road,  brooding  in  passionate  aspira- 

A   A 


354  HOLYLAND 

tion.  ' '  Gracious  and  pure  they  say  he  was ;  unspeak- 
ably dear ;  he  wanted  men  to  be  children  of  God ; 
away  with  the  external  forms  of  righteousness.  .  .  Yes, 
that  is  true ;  such  are  his  people.  Their  trust  in  God  is 
wonderful,  the  joyful  sense  of  being  His  children,  with 
which  they  endure  all  that  I  lay  upon  them.  And  they  are 
so  gentle,  so  friendly  to  one  another.  They  have  all,  all 
that  my  poor  soul  yearns  for  in  vain.  .  .  .  He  was  slain 
and  arose  from  the  dead  ....  freed  from  this  misery  of 
flesh.  .  .  Their  eyes  have  looked  upon  him  ...  if  it  were 
true?  Was  he  really  the  Saviour?  .  .  .  Oh,  if  he  would 
only  show  himself  to  me !  If  I  could  see  him,  risen, 
a  denizen  of  Heaven  !  Then  I  should  be  free  from  the 
burden  of  my  body,  then  I  should  stand,  uplifted,  free  and 
blissful  close  to  the  knees  of  God.  .  .  Oh,  then!  .  .  ." 

And,  behold  !  as  he  went  on,  in  an  agony  of  indecision, 
one  of  his  physical  and  spiritual  attacks  came  upon  him, 
and  he  saw  the  Saviour  standing  in  the  radiant  glow  of 
heavenly  beauty  and  glory. 

From  this  hour  on  he  devoted  himself  with  restless 
energy  to  preaching  the  hero.  ' '  He  has  appeared  to  me ; 
he  is  the  Saviour."  And  he  decked  the  hero,  the  true  and 
simple  son  of  man,  with  all  the  marvellous  attributes  of  his 
imaginative  faith.  He  was  the  eternal  Godhead,  the  great 
eternal  wonder  of  the  world.  He  overlaid  the  humble  sim- 
plicity of  the  son  of  man  with  sevenfold  brocade,  glitter- 
ing and  heavy. 

The  simple  moor  folk  had  known  his  mother  and  father, 
had  sat  at  table  with  him,  seen  him  in  laughter  and  tears, 
in  sickness  and  health ;  they  had  seen  him  doubtful  and 
uncertain,  stirred  to  annoyance  and  to  anger.  He  had 
walked  with  them  the  long  sandy  ways  to  the  town ;  they 
knew  that  he  was  not  the  creator  of  the  world,  but  a  man 
like  themselves. 

This  man,  his  poet's  eye  in  a  fine  frenzy  rolling,  had 
never  seen  him ;  he  knew  little  of  his  life,  and  was  little 
interested  in  it;  he  saw  in  him  only  the  wonder  of  the 
world,  dead  and  risen  from  the  dead. 

He  cried,  "  Awake  !  awake  !  God  has  been  in  the  world  ! 
Awake !  He  comes  ....  he  comes !  Make  haste ! 
....  to-morrow  or  the  day  after  to-morrow  he  will 
come  down  from  Heaven  and  pass  judgment. ' ' 

His  fiery  eloquence  not  only  persuaded  the  disciples 
and  even  the  ancient  followers ;  it  convinced  others,  fellow- 


HOLYLAND  355 

countrymen  and  strangers.  People  longed  for  a  great 
and  conquering  faith  to  harmonise  their  view  of  the  world 
and  co-ordinate  its  elements.  In  him  gifted,  courageous 
and  inspired  by  a  -  passionate  love  of  right,  his  new  belief 
and  love  glowed  like  some  divine  frenzy.  His  imagina- 
tion knew  no  bounds ;  he  knew  the  secret  plans  of  God, 
the  creation  of  the  world,  judgment  to  come — nothing  was 
concealed  from  him.  He  erected  a  marvellous  edifice  of 
thought,  strongly  built  and  inter-penetrated  with  the 
fiery  breath  of  love,  that  reached  up  from  the  foundations 
of  Hell  through  the  vaults  of  death,  up  to  and  even  above 
the  arch  of  the  seventh  heaven. 

And  so  the  noble  simplicity  of  the  human  picture  dis- 
appeared. The  true  man,  striving  and  fighting  upwards 
through  pain,  was  distorted  into  the  eternal  wonder  of  the 
world.  The  man  who  passionately  loved  his  poor  people 
and  died  for  them  in  spite  of  hopes  betrayed  became 
the  eternal  Redeemer  of  mankind  yet  to  be.  His  words, 
' '  these  are  by  nature  the  children  of  God ;  they  can  do 
His  will,  if  they  will  it  also,"  were  twisted  to  "  these  are 
corrupt  by  nature,  powerless,  the  children  of  the  devil ; 
they  only  reach  God  by  the  help  of  a  wonder."  His 
words,  "Feel  thyself  the  child  of  God  !  Do  the  will  of  God  ! 
Who  so  doeth  the  will  of  God  is  blessed,"  became,  "Do 
this ;  but  only  if  you  believe  also  that  the  Son  of  God  has 
died  for  you,  are  you  blessed. "  His  hope  "  that  he  should 
soon  return  to  erect  the  Kingdom  of  Heaven  upon  earth  " 
became  the  belief  ' '  that  he  would  appear  again  as  the 
Eternal  Judge  of  all  men,  living  and  dead." 

Only  in  one  thing  did  he  keep  close  to  the  pure  and 
lofty  son  of  man ;  like  him  he  said  that  love  of  God  and 
man  came  first  of  all. 

He  preached  sermons  glowing  with  passionate  love  of 
the  eternal,  heavenly  being,  and  of  God  ;  arid  of  the  men 
whom  he  so  longed  to  save.  He  endured  danger  and 
trouble,  mockery  and  abuse.  For  all  his  strangeness,  he 
was  a  great  and  noble-minded  man ;  and  his  courage  was 
heroic.  Up  to  the  hour  of  his  death  he  preached,  "  The 
Eternal  One  cometh  !  He  cometh  !  and  judgment  with 
him!" 

But  he  came  not. 

He  came  not. 

Then  the  faithful  accepted  the  conclusion  that  the  time 

A  A  2 


356  HOLYLAND 

might  still  be  far  away.  They  took  life  more  easily ; 
abandoning  the  passionate  belief  that  he  might  return 
every  moment  they  looked  forward  to  the  calm  hope. 
' '  After  death  we  shall  come  to  him  and  he  will  have  mercy 
upon  us." 

In  such  a  creed  there  was  room  for  priests  once  more ; 
they  gradually  forced  themselves  between  the  "  Divine 
Redeemer  "  and  men ;  the  old  juggling  with  human  fears 
and  human  indolence  began  again ;  once  more  the  easy 
priest  grew  sleek  and  rich.  It  all  was  as  it  had  been 
when  the  hero  arose.  They  collected  the  old  chronicles 
over  which  he  had  so  brooded  in  his  youth ;  they  gathered 
together  four  wonderful  accounts  of  his  life,  and  the 
epistles  of  his  great  followers,  and  a  few  other  documents 
dealing  with  him ;  and  bound  up  all  these  contradictory 
and  discordant  stories  in  a  book,  which  they  called  "  the 
Holy  Writ,"  a  book  which  they  said,  and  most  people 
believed  it,  had  been  written  under  the  eyes  of  God  Him- 
self; a  book  which  contained  no  error,  admitted  no 
contradiction. 

The  faith  thus  twice  modified  was  both  comforting 
and  attractive.  It  gained  more  and  more  adherents. 
Even  the  rich  and  powerful  found  it  tolerable,  and  this 
increase  in  numbers  brought  the  great  mass  of  the  indif- 
ferent, so  that  the  faith  became  the  fashion  and  was 
accepted  as  the  religion  of  the  State. 

Centuries  passed.  Priests  and  Synods  amended  and 
invented.  Legends  arose;  miracles,  effected  by  old  and 
new  saints,  were  reported  and  recorded.  Great  collec- 
tions of  laws  were  compiled.  All  these  reports,  these 
legends  of  the  saints,  these  compilations  were  added  to 
the  Holy  Writ.  The  priests'  corn  was  in  flower;  its  fra- 
grance filled  the  warm  summer  day  far  and  wide.  Human 
ingenuity  was  constantly  at  work  upon  the  ancient  Holy 
Writ,  which  was  itself  as  much  forgotten  as  if  they 
thought  that  no  one  would  ever  trouble  about  it  again. 
In  the  end,  time,  human  ingeunity  and  human  ambition 
made  a  cold  and  unreal  abstraction  out  of  the  good 
countryman,  the  brave  hero  who  lived  the  life  of  a  true 
and  upright  man  :  a  man  who  cherished  the  pure  and 
wonderful  faith  of  a  child,  and  died  in  lonely  despair; 
an  abstraction,  that  sat  above  the  clouds  ruling  the  world 
in  a  garment  of  stiff  gold.  Beside  him  sat  his  mother, 


HOLYLAND  357 

almost  greater  than  he  was ;  his  poor,  foolish  mother  ! 
around  him,  clad  in  robes  of  silk,  bearing  themselves 
with  pride  and  dignity,  stood  the  wise  old  peasants  who 
had  once  gone  barefoot  with  him  over  the  sands. 

The  eternal  might  is  perpetually  at  work,  working 
among  men  as  much  as  among  the  stars  or  on  the  ocean. 

So  it  happened  that  among  the  German  people  a  man 
arose :  a  true  German,  full  of  passionate  sincerity  and 
vigorous  life,  of  native  power  and  wide  education.  As 
he  grew  to  manhood  he  sought  to  set  his  soul  in  its  true 
relation  to  the  eternal  might.  He  cast  into  the  mud  the 
mass  of  stupid  contradictions  with  which  the  priests  had 
overlaid  the  Holy  Writ,  and  sat  down  to  study  the  Holy 
Writ  itself.  The  trumpet  tones  of  Paul,  that  strange 
apostle,  rang  out  clear  and  full ;  he  heard  him  only.  He 
did  not  wholly  understand  his  frenzied  vehemence ;  he 
adapted  what  he  said.  He  took  as  the  kernel  of  his 
faith  the  words,  "  Man  is  just  and  pleasing  in  the  sight  of 
God  through  his  faith  in  the  death  and  merits  of  the  son 
of  God." 

His  piety  and  the  courage  with  which  he  upheld  his  faith 
won  for  him  half  his  country-men.  The  northern  part 
of  Germany,  and  the  other  Germanic  races,  in  whose 
hands  lies  the  future  of  the  world,  cast  away  the  accursed 
collection  of  writings;  their  faith  in  the  "  Word  of  God," 
the  "  doctrine  of  the  Church,"  as  they  called  it,  gave  them 
a  time  of  satisfaction. 

It  could  not  last ;  not  more  than  three  hundred  years  did 
their  faith  hold  them. 

The  so-called  ' '  Word  of  God  "  or  "  doctrine  of  the 
Church  ' '  was  founded  on  an  error ;  it  was  internally  false 
to  history  and  to  morality,  in  that  it  taught  that  the  simple 
hero  was  merely  the  outward  appearance  which  concealed 
the  presence  in  the  world  of  an  heavenly  eternally  existent 
being,  the  son  of  God  and  the  creator  of  the  world. 
This  error  made  the  doctrine  based  upon  it  empty,  hard 
and  unreal.  And  the  more  empty  and  hard  it  grew 
the  more  it  appealed  to  mediocrities,  and  the  more  it 
was  regarded  as  immutable.  Narrow-minded  fools  finally 
declared  "The  word  of  God  and  Luther's  teaching 
shall  never  pass  away." 

And  so  in  the  course  of  the  last  two  centuries  the  best 


358  HOLYLAND 

minds  of  the  nation,  its  greatest  poets,  thinkers  and 
leaders,  the  young,  the  intellectual,  the  noble,  the  aspiring 
have  turned  away  from  this  belief  and  the  Church  that 
represented  it,  demanding  that  their  Church  should  go  be- 
fore the  people  with  a  clarion  voice  leading  them  in 
the  lofty  path  of  freedom.  The  churches  now  stood  in 
the  road  like  two  old  market  women  in  their  broken 
carts,  calling  out  to  the  people,  or  it  went  on  and 
left  them  behind.  It  did  go  on  !  Who  can  name  them 
all?  Frederick  the  Great,  Goethe,  Helmholtz !  .  .  . 
Greeting  to  you,  our  leaders  ! 

The  eternal  might  is  ever  busy  in  the  thoughts  of  men. 

Dissatisfied  with  the  cold  repulsive  teaching  of  the 
Church,  disturbed  by  the  workings  of  the  eternal  in  their 
souls,  driving  them  to  seek  out  God,  a  hundred  and  fifty 
years  ago  German  men  found  courage  and  conviction  to 
investigate  the  Holy  Writ.  They  wanted  to  see  whether 
the  book  were  really  a  unity  and  infallible,  as  the  Church 
maintained.  It  was  a  bold  undertaking,  but  they  de- 
clared, "  We  shall  examine  the  book  like  any  other." 

For  a  hundred  years  a  hundred  good  and  true  men  of 
learning  continued  the  investigation,  and  as  they  did 
so  it  became  clearer  and  clearer  that  the  "Holy  Writ  " 
contained  many  errors,  religious  and  historical,  and  a 
mass  of  inconsistent  beliefs;  there  was  much  that  was 
noble  in  it,  much  that  was  bad,  much  that  was  narrow, 
much  that  was  contradictory.  It  was  like  a  garden,  a 
wonderful,  varied,  disorderly  book.  The  brave  men 
pressed  their  way  further  and  further  into  the  garden ; 
through  the  long,  rank  grass  and  the  tall  trees.  Further 
and  further  they  penetrated,  anxiously  and  with  reverent 
hearts,  seeking  for  the  Holyland,  the  bourne  of  the  human 
spirit.  .  .  Ah  !  listen  .  .  .  from  the  midst  of  the  wide 
garden,  hidden  away  in  the  mysterious  mass  of  the 
green  bushes,  there  came,  soft  and  clear,  the  exquisitely 
pure  voice  of  a  nightingale.  It  sang  with  intense  and 
penetrating  sweetness,  ending  on  a  note  of  quivering 
pain,  of  the  love  of  the  Almighty  and  the  divine  nature  of 
man. 

In  the  time  of  Luther  there  arose  in  many  German 
hearts  a  new  and  passionate  search  for  the  word  of  God, 
a  new  love  for  Him ;  in  our  own  day  there  has  arisen  a 


HOLYLAND  359 

passionate  and  new  love  for  the  pure  hero  who  was  hidden 
away  under  so  many  strange  disguises.  It  was  a  time 
of  eager  and  joyful  energy.  For  a  hundred  years  the 
brave  German  scholars  toiled,  in  spite  of  the  scorn  and 
contempt  of  obscurantists  and  the  depreciation  of  the 
anxious,  to  try  and  break  through  the  hedge  of  thorns 
behind  which  the  hero  has  slept  in  concealment  for  two 
thousand  years.  Awake,  true  hero  !  awake  !  Gradually, 
since  many  good  men  and  true  aided  in  the  work  and 
assisted  one  another,  we  saw  his  soul ;  six  or  seven  of 
the  most  important  incidents  in  his  life  were  established ; 
he  stood  there,  a  man. 

He  was  a  man.  There  are  proofs  enough.  First  of 
all :  He  said  so  himself.  Second  :  In  his  thought  he  was 
a  child  of  his  time.  Third  :  His  character  is  remarkable. 
Fourth :  He  developed.  Fifth :  His  nature  was  not 
wholly  free  from  evil.  Sixth  :  He  made  mistakes ;  he  did 
not  return,  and  the  Kingdom  of  Heaven  did  not  come  to 
pass.  .  .  He  was  a  man.  Wonderful  as  his  goodness  and 
wisdom  and  courage,  neither  in  action  nor  in  thought  was 
he  more  than  man.  He  was  the  fairest  of  the  children  of 
men. 

And  his  beautiful  human  soul  has  given  us  this  :  faith 
in  the  divine  dignity  and  lofty  worth  of  every  human 
soul;  and,  derived  from  this,  faith  in  the  goodness  and 
nearness  of  the  unknown  eternal  might;  and,  like  good 
fruit  from  good  soil,  faith  in  the  stern  and  beautiful  tasks 
of  humanity  and  its  lofty  destiny  in  the  Kingdom  of 
Heaven.  Thus  he  brought  to  light  the  meaning  and  the 
worth  of  human  life  and  gave  it  an  eternal  nobility. 


We  leave  on  one  side  all  in  him  that  was  temporary, 
all  that  was  mistaken ;  his  belief  in  spirits,  his  miracles, 
his  belief  in  his  bodily  resurrection  and  the  immediacy  of 
the  Kingdom  of  Heaven.  Even  his  morality,  lofty  as  it 
is,  cannot  bind  the  children  of  a  time  so  different  from 
anything  of  which  he  could  conceive. 

We  leave  on  one  side  all  the  doctrines  which  have  been 
laid  down  from  the  time  of  Paul  and  the  Evangelists  on 
concerning  God  and  the  Saviour. 

We  put  away  the  mother  of  God  and  the  Saints, 
the  Pope  and  the  Mass — away  with  them.  God  has 


360  HOLYLAND 

had    them  judged    and   sentenced    to   death   by    German 
science. 

We  put  away  the  Trinity  and  the  Fall,  the  eternal  son 
of  God  and  the  atonement  by  his  blood  and  the  resurrec- 
tion of  the  body.  Why  should  we  believe  such  things? 
They  cannot  make  us  happier  or  better.  And,  moreover, 
what  have  such  things  to  do  with  belief?  They  are 
questions  of  knowledge.  Mistaken  conceptions,  German 
investigation  has  dismissed  them  once  and  for  all.  In 
their  time  they  may  have  had  a  validity  and  a  use  for  man- 
kind; they  may  have  served  as  a  protecting  frame  for 
the  precious  picture  of  the  Saviour;  but  they  have  no 
utility  now.  Away  with  the  frame  !  Only  ignorant  men 
or  hypocrites  fix  their  eyes  on  it  now.  Saviour,  how 
beautiful  is  thy  picture !  how  simple  and  childlike  thy 
faith  ! 

Certainly  thy  faith  had  little  visible  basis,  little  outward 
success.  Thy  "  Father  in  Heaven  "  let  thee  descend  into 
the  abyss  of  dark  despair  and  had  no  mercy  upon  thee. 
And  how  did  men  treat  thee?  the  men  whose  dignity 
thou  heldst  so  high?  Ah,  but  within  thy  soul  had  a  prize 
beyond  all  estimation,  precious  in  that  high  and  lofty 
faith  that  made  thee  so  joyful,  set  such  a  light  in 
thine  eyes,  such  strength  and  gentleness  in  thy 
heart!  Thy  faith  made  thee  the  brightest  star  in  man's 
firmament. 

Therefore  let  the  unknown  eternal  power  be  what  it 
may,  let  it  do  with  us  what  it  will ;  thy  faith,  thou  fairest 
of  the  children  of  men,  is  our  faith  !  And  this  is  our 
faith :  we  feel  and  we  believe  that  the  hidden  and 
eternal  power  is  good  and  true  and  holy.  We  approach 
it  with  a  trembling  childlike  love,  we  trust  it,  we  rejoice 
in  it,  we  draw  close  to  it.  And  in  this  relation  we  find 
a  deep  and  peaceful  joy ;  it  teaches  us  a  reverence  for 
our  own  soul  and  the  souls  of  others,  an  eagerness  of 
eye  and  hand  in  the  cause  of  progress,  a  mind  ready 
to  help  others  and  a  joyous  hopefulness  for  the  future  of 
humanity. 

And  this  faith  is  ours,  not  because  he  who  first  held 
it  was  an  eternal  and  wonderful  being  or  because  he  had 
any  such  authority  over  us.  What  has  authority  to  say 
in  such  questions?  How  can  one  soul  be  responsible 
for  others?  Each  soul  must  stand  alone.  It  is  ours 


HOLYLAND  361 

because  it  corresponds  to  the  highest  elements  in  the 
soul.  All  my  life  long  I  have  asked  my  soul,  "  My  soul, 
you  never  cease  to  search  for  happiness.  Tell  me,  then, 
my  soul,  what  makes  you  calm  and  strong,  gay  and 
joyous?"  And  my  soul  replies,  "The  faith  that  the 
hero  held.  He  was  the  true,  the  complete  man,  and  there- 
fore he  discovered  the  true  faith  for  man.  Help  me  to 
hold  it,  eternal  power,  thou  mysterious  goodness,  thou  my 
Father. ' ' 

Therefore  rejoice,  ye  school  children  and  teachers 
throughout  the  land.  You  have  still  to  puzzle  your 
brains  over  the  stupid  knowledge  that  is  useless  and 
harmful  and  has  nothing  to  do  with  faith;  but  it  will  all 
come  soon  to  the  waste-paper  basket.  Rejoice,  ye,  too, 
shall  rejoice  in  Jesus  the  carpenter,  the  wonderful  stain- 
less hero ;  ye,  too,  shall  bring  into  your  lives  his  lofty, 
childlike  faith. 

Rejoice,  young  manhood  of  the  land !  The  Church 
is  fighting  against  reason,  the  gift  of  God,  and  against 
the  noble  joy  of  living.  Here  is  a  faith  which  rejoices  in 
every  triumph  of  science,  which  is  in  harmony  with  the 
lofty  spirit  of  Greece. 

Rejoice,  scholars  and  artists  !  You  have  stood,  shak- 
ing your  heads  over  the  marvel  which  the  Church  had 
set  down  in  the  centre  of  man's  path;  you  went  round 
about  it,  not  knowing  where  to  begin.  Now  there  stands 
in  the  path  a  fearful,  simple  child  of  man  looking  at  you 
with  deep  and  truthful  eyes.  The  path  of  mankind  is 
lofty  indeed,  but  human. 

Rejoice,  preachers  of  both  confessions,  ye  whose  minds 
are  free  and  lofty.  Not  for  long  shall  ye  be  compelled  to 
proclaim  a  senseless  universe,  a  petty  and  unjust  God, 
an  unhistorically  distorted  Saviour.  Instead,  you  may 
proclaim  with  shining  eyes  the  life,  the  deeds,  the  faith 
of  the  pure  and  true  hero;  and  speak  with  prophetic  eyes 
and  voice  of  the  future  of  mankind,  leading  it  on  to  the 
blessed  kingdom  of  God. 

Rejoice,  O  State  !  The  Church  has  used  thee  indeed ; 
made  thee  her  servant  and  her  scorn ;  deceived  and  robbed 
thee.  She  had  grown  swollen  with  her  secrets ;  but  Ger- 
man investigation  has  torn  her  secrets  from  her.  Is  she 
to  contest  the  people  any  longer,  to  rule  it,  to  hold  it 
back?  Now  each  man  can  hear  with  his  own  ears  the 


362  HOLYLAND 

exquisite  song  of  the  nightingale,  and  interpret  it  after 
his  own  fashion. 

Rejoice,  O  Christendom  !  All  seemed  lost  for  thee  in 
our  time.  Thou  couldst  not  have  conquered  the  world 
with  the  "  Pope  "  and  the  "  Word  of  God."  But  China, 
India  and  Japan  will  turn  to  the  pure  hero  and  accept  his 
faith.  If  they  have  souls  like  ours  they  will  accept  it, 
for  it  is  adapted  to  the  human  heart ;  the  heart  needs  it 
and  opens  out  to  it. 

Rejoice,  O  my  soul !  Sit  still  a  while  and  dream ; 
rejoice  !  What  light  has  been  cast  into  the  darkness  of 
German  thought !  If  the  light  hurts  thee,  my  soul,  thy 
eyes  will  grow  accustomed  to  it,  thou  bird  of  the  day  ! 
Dost  thou  see  clear  now  ?  Dost  thou  see  the  land  ?  Dost 
thou  rejoice  ?  What  a  Holyland  !  what  a  joyous  future  is 
before  it !  Sit  still  a  while  and  look  around  and  think.  .  . 
Now,  no  more ;  now  arise,  and  go  about  thy"  work  thou 
joyful  sad  one,  thou  companion  of  God. 


Heinke  Boje  sat  by  the  table  in  her  room,  and  read  by 
the  light  of  the  lamp. 

When  the  night  came  the  thick  mist  of  autumn  rose  up 
from  the  hollows  and  lay  in  grey,  snakelike  lines  round 
the  town  of  Hilligenlei ;  it  glided  into  the  streets  to  terrify 
men  with  its  soundless  advance,  its  pale  coils,  to  fill  the 
town  over  the  tops  of  the  houses,  up  to  the  roof  of  the 
tower,  hiding  away  all  light. 

About  midnight,  when  Heinke  Boje  had  read  to  the 
end,  she  opened  the  window  and  looked  out.  When  she 
perceived  the  void,  cold,  formless  mass  whirling  there  her 
heart  contracted  and  she  felt  oppressed  with  fear.  The 
uncertainty,  the  burden  of  human  life,  the  awful  isolation 
of  every  individual  soul  came  upon  her  and  tortured 
her.  She  wept  in  pity  for  herself  and  all  men,  and  for 
him  who  was  now  making  his  lonely  way  through  this 
cold,  grey,  formless  mist.  No  love  went  with  him;  no 
companion  shared  his  faith. 

Then  her  thoughts  turned  to  him  of  whom  she  had  just 
read ;  to  the  strong  pure  man  and  his  faith.  And  her 
faith  rose  up  to  meet  his.  She  believed  and  prayed  as  he 
had  believed  and  prayed. 


THE  first  long  letter  from  Kai  Jans  came  three  months 
later,  as  Heinke  Boje  was  sitting-  at  breakfast  one  morn- 
ing with  Peter  Volquardsen's  mother  in  East  Holstein, 
the  sparkling  engagement  ring  on  her  finger.  It  came 
from  Capetown.  She  rose  and  went  up  to  her  bedroom, 
and  devoured  the  letter  with  eager  eyes.  The  two 
travellers  bad  gone  ashore  at  Capetown,  and  now,  after 
much  laying  of  plans,  had  decided  to  travel  through  all 
the  English  Colonies  as  far  as  the  Crocodile  River.  They 
meant  to  spend  two  years  in  doing  this,  and  then,  if  pos- 
sible, to  go  by  land  to  the  German  Colonies  in  the  West. 
The  letter  did  not  dwell  upon  this,  but  went  on  to  talk 
of  all  kinds  of  personal  experiences  old  and  new,  great 
and  small,  and  the  feelings  which  they  had  roused  or  the 
circumstances  in  which  they  had  taken  place,  giving  the 
reader  a  lively  picture  of  the  writer's  mind.  It  was  the 
letter  of  a  man  who  had  completed  the  act  of  renunciation 
and  was  going  on  his  lonely  way  in  silent  courage.  Once, 
only  once,  something  in  the  turn  of  a  phrase  suggested  the 
agonised  sense  of  loss  behind,  but  it  was  quickly  covered  up 
by  a  gay  jest.  She  was  overjoyed  with  the  letter.  She  had 
been  afraid  he  had  turned  away  from  her  in  bitterness,  that 
he  would  write  coldly  and  distantly,  or  speak  of  his  suffer- 
ing ;  instead,  his  letter  breathed  nothing  but  affection  and 
courage;  she  could  feel  the  affection  and  the  courage  in 
his  grave  and  jesting  words  as  she  read  the  letter  again 
and  again  with  tears  in  her  eyes.  Then  she  sat  down 
and  wrote  a  long  letter  in  reply,  full  of  her  joy  and  her 
warm  friendship  to  him. 

From  this  time  on  long  friendly  letters  passed  between 
them.  At  times  there  was  deep  longing  in  her  thought 
of  him ;  but  generally  she  was  calm  like  a  man  who  has  a 
rich  possession  in  his  hands  and  another  far  away  which 
he  knows  is  safe.  She  looked  forward  with  childlike 


364  HO.LYLAND 

delight  to  the  distant  day  of  his  return.  That  would  be 
a  delightful  day  !  to  have  him  sitting  at  her  table  as  her 
guest,  such  a  dear  guest !  How  she  should  spoil  him, 
laugh  at  him,  tease  him  and  find  out  all  his  likes  and 
dislikes. 

One  day  she  told  him  that  she  was  now  living  with  her 
friend ;  another  time  that  she  was  expecting  her  first 
child ;  another  that  she  had  given  birth  to  a  boy.  It  was 
with  deep  joy,  with  a  secret  and  fearful  pride  that  she 
saw  from  his  letters  how  deeply  the  news  had  affected 
him.  She  did  desire  passionately  that  he  should  con- 
tinue to  love  her,  always,  always.  She  could  not  bear  the 
thought  that  another  woman  might  possess  him  and  she 
be  forgot.  She  told  him  in  moving  words  how  she  prized 
the  jewel  of  his  love,  and  of  her  cherished  hope  that  one 
day  when  they  were  both  grown  old  and  calm  they 
might  live  next  door  to  one  another,  "and  then  every 
morning  one  of  the  children  shall  bring  you  a  flower  to 
say  good  morning  !  and  every  evening  you  shall  sit  with 
us  in  the  light  of  our  lamp."  He  took  up  the  idea  in 
his  answer  and  elaborated  it  half  in  jest  and  half  in 
earnest,  so  movingly  that  she  sobbed  aloud. 

Three  and  a  half  years  went  by.  She  lived  in  perfect 
harmony  and  happiness  with  her  husband,  rejoicing  with 
him  in  the  child  now  able  to  run  from  one  parent  to  the 
other  and  gaze  with  intelligent  eyes  at  the  pictures  his 
father  showed  him ;  and  expected  her  second  child. 

Just  about  this  time  the  newspapers  published  the  first 
reports  of  that  rising  in  our  colony  which  was  to. cost  us 
so  many  noble  lives.  They  were  in  no  anxiety  about  the 
travelling,  however,  since  he  had  said  in  his  last  letter 
that  the  high  prices  and  the  unsuitable  time  of  year  had 
decided  them  against  going  by  land ;  they  intended  to 
go  viA  Capetown.  But  when  no  further  news  came  for  ten 
weeks  they  began  to  be  uneasy. 

At  last  a  letter  came.  His  friend  wrote  from  Windhoek 
to  the  "  friend  of  his  dear  friend."  "  We  decided,  after 
all,  on  finding  that  we  could  accompany  a  party  of  Boers 
to  go  with  waggons  through  Griqua  and  Namaqualand. 
We  arrived  safely  and  intended  to  part  from  the  Boers 
in  order  to  look  at  some  of  the  farms.  In  the  night  a 
colonist  came  to  our  camp  fire,  on  foot,  a  fugitive,  declaring 
that  he  had  been  attacked  and  his  wife  and  three  children 


HOLYLAND  365 

were  wandering-  there  in  the  bush.  Kai  Jans  and  I  imme- 
diately left  the  Boers  and,  under  cover  of  the  darkness, 
made  our  way  with  the  fugitive  to  his  dwelling;  after 
some  search  we  found  his  wife  and  children  in  the  bush ; 
and  then  made  our  way  north,  marching-  night  and  day, 
on  foot,  over  the  parched  and  burning-  sand  and  rock, 
often  perishing  of  thirst,  always  in  danger  of  our  lives. 
During  the  march  our  friend  underwent  a  great  strain ; 
as  you  know  since  he  was  a  sailor  on  the  Clara  his  heart 
and  lungs  have  not  been  very  strong,  and,  during  our 
flight,  even  when  we  others  had  the  watch,  his  imagina- 
tion kept  him  from  sleeping.  All  the  time  he  was  always 
ready  to  carry  the  youngest  child,  a  stout  little  beggar 
who  was  always  crying.  Finally  when  we  reached  Reho- 
both  in  comparative  safety  he  fell  seriously  ill  of  pneu- 
monia. The  attack  was  sharp  and  short;  he  is  now 
practically  recovered,  but  the  doctor  cannot  say  anything 
definitely  until  it  appears  how  far  his  heart  has  been 
affected.  I  took  advantage  of  the  first  opportunity  of 
coming  with  him  to  Windhoek,  where  we  now  are,  and 
as  soon  as  the  doctor  recommends  I  shall  bring  him  back 
to  Germany,  trusting  that  your  care  and  his  native  air  may 
bring  him  back  to  health. 

"  You  will  pardon  my  freedom  in  saying  to  you  that  since 
the  beginning  of  our  journey  I  have  known,  although  my 
friend  breathed  no  word  upon  the  subject,  that  he  had 
some  heavy  sorrow ;  his  behaviour  revealed  to  me  what 
his  lips  did  not.  Ordinarily  he  was  as  you  know  him  : 
keenly  observant,  deeply  interested  in  the  conditions  of 
the  unknown  country,  friendly  and  sympathetic  to  all. 
But  when  he  was  alone  and  thought  himself  unobserved 
I  used  often  to  find  him  in  a  strange  state  of  mind ;  some- 
times he  seemed  quite  broken,  there  was  a  silent  anguish 
on  his  face  like  that  of  a  man  whose  hopes  are  all  shat- 
tered ;  sometimes,  again,  his  eyes  shone  with  an  abstracted 
expression  as  if  in  his  mind's  eye  he  saw  his  beloved  smil- 
ing to  him  from  afar.  I  did  not  know  what  caused  such 
varied  moods  in  him,  and  yet  I  had  long  felt  certain  that 
both  the  mood  of  despair  and  of  joy  was  connected  with 
you ;  for  whenever  he  spoke  of  his  youth  and  his  home 
he  ended  by  speaking  of  you. 

"  It  was  the  first  day  in  Rehoboth,  late  in  the  after- 
noon, that  he  spoke  to  me.  He  felt  that  a  serious  ill- 


366  HOLYLAND 

ness  was  coming  upon  him,  and  while  he  tried  hastily 
to  write  a  letter  to  you  the  fever  made  his  hand  so  un- 
steady that  he  had  to  throw  away  the  pen.  Then  he  said 
to  me  in  a  tone  of  utter  despondency  that  in  his  life  he  had 
endured  much,  he  had  fought  against  and  conquered 
powerful  spirit  shapes,  but  one  thing  he  could  not  over- 
come :  the  knowledge  that  he  had  lost  you,  and  lost  you 
through  his  own  folly. 

' '  I  am  a  reserved  and  almost  cold  man ;  he  told  me  that 
he  chose  me  for  his  friend  because  I  calmed  the  passion 
of  his  blood.  I  told  him  that  such  a  feeling  might  well 
grow  to  something  overwhelming  if  he  allowed  himself 
to  feed  it  daily  on  the  longings  of  a  lively  imagination. 
He  replied  that  he  had  known  you  from  his  childhood, 
and,  although  he  was  not  blind  to  your  faults,  which 
were  the  faults  of  your  family,  you  had  stood  by  him 
from  your  childhood  for  all  that  was  dear  and  beautiful 
and  pure  in  life. 

"  I  need  tell  you  no  more  of  his  illness  except  this  :  in 
his  wandering  he  was  always  comforting  a  child,  whom 
he  carried  through  sand  and  bush ;  but  it  was  not  that 
child,  but  yours.  In  the  strange  confusion  of  disease 
he  was  carrying  it  to  you,  toiling  over  wide  plains  and 
over  exhausting  roads,  you  stood  in  the  distance,  looking 
across  to  him  and  scolding  him  for  making  such  slow 
progress. 

"  I  found  some  notes  in  the  diary  which  he  handed  over 
to  me,  which  I  enclose.  First,  some  notes  on  the  life  of 
the  Saviour,  modifications  of  certain  crudities  of  style  and 
matter.  The  rest  deals  with  his  relations  to  you.  No 
doubt  with  the  idea  of  always  having  to  hand  thoughts 
that  could  console  and  strengthen  him  in  his  sorrow  he 
put  down  some  considerations  which  could  help  him. 
'  God  did  not  let  her  belong  to  me  because  He  wished  to 
shield  me  and  her  from  exceeding  sorrow ;  for  I  shall 
die  soon.  .  .  I  alone  suffer;  through  my  renunciation 
they,  too,  live  in  peace.  ...  I  must  live  and  be  of  good 
courage  to  be  a  helper  to  her  if  sorrow  ever  comes  upon 
her.  .  .  .  How  often  a  poor  rejected  lover  has  no  friendly 
word  from  the  woman  he  loves ;  but  every  letter  shows 
me  that  I  am  dear  to  her.  .  .  I  will  believe  that  there  is 
a  good  end  attained  by  my  sorrow ;  it  will  make  me  a 
better  and  deeper  man,  and  therefore  I  must  not  despair. 


HOLYLAND  367 

....  I  will  think  of  the  days  to  come  when  we  are  old, 
when  I  may  be  able  to  endure  to  see  her,  even  to  find  joy 
in  it.  ...  If  she  had  been  my  wife,  every  heart  beat,  every 
pang-  in  my  shoulder  would  have  tortured  me  with  the  fear 
of  a  long  illness  or  death ;  now  I  am  at  all  times  ready 
for  whatever  the  eternal  power  may  send,  be  it  health  or 
sickness  or  death. ' 

"  I  am  writing  this  and  sending  it  by  the  mail  that  goes 
the  day  after  to-morrow  in  order  that  you  may  write  to 
him  whatever  you  think  fit,  or  if  I  cable  you  in  the  course 
of  a  week  that  I  am  bringing  him  home  you  may  be 
fully  informed  as  to  his  condition." 

So  ran  the  friend's  letter.  Three  weeks  later  came 
the  cable,  "Jans,  May  21,  Hamburg." 

Early  in  the  morning  of  the  2ist  of  May  the  two  who 
had  stood  nearest  to  him  from  his  childhood  started  off 
for  Hamburg,  Heinke  Volquardsen  and  Lau,  the  corn- 
dealer. 


On  their  arrival  at  the  inn  Pe  Ontjes  went  down  to  the 
harbour  and  saw  the  steamer  slowly  sailing  up  the  Elbe. 
He  ran  to  the  African  quay,  reaching  it  almost  at  the 
moment  of  the  steamer's  arrival,  and  went  on  board.  He 
asked  for  the  doctor  and  enquired  of  him  whether  Jans 
were  on  board  and  how  he  was.  The  young  doctor  re- 
plied that  the  sea  voyage  had  done  his  lung  great  good ; 
it  was  in  fact  almost  well  again ;  but  the  condition  of  his 
heart  left  a  great  deal  to  be  desired.  It  was  possible  that 
he  might  recover  his  strength,  and  treatment  at  some  sana- 
torium might  effect  a  complete  cure;  it  was  also  possible 
that  any  day  might  bring  the  end.  He  would  go  down 
and  announce  the  visitor. 

Lau  went  in  and  found  him  alone.  As  he  lay  on  his 
back  his  emaciated  appearance  shocked  Lau,  although  he 
concealed  it.  He  sat  down  on  the  chair  by  the  bed  and 
held  his  hand  in  his. 

"  It's  like  Cape  Horn,"  said  Kai  Jans,  his  eyes  shining. 

"  Very  like  !  "  said  Lau.  "  They  all  send  their  love  to 
you.  First  your  father." 

"  How  is  the  old  man?  "  said  Kai  Jans,  smiling  as  he 
thought  of  the  letters  he  had  had  from  him,  the  quaint 
humour  with  which  he  spoke  of  the  doings  of  Hilligenlei, 


368  HOLYLAND 

the  enthusiastic  language  of  his  political  and  religious 
aspirations. 

"  He's  all  right,"  said  Lau;  "  he  has  his  interest  from 
the  Hindorf  Savings  Bank  and  his  pension,  and  now  and 
then  he  earns  a  trifle;  and  altogether  he  has  a  shilling  a 
day.  He  has  got  a  little  smaller  and  a  little  thinner 
since  you  saw  him  last,  but  I  can  tell  you  there's 
nothing  more  magnificent  in  Hilligenlei  than  to  see 
him  sitting  there,  with  his  cap  well  over  his  head 
and  his  eyes  sparkling  under  the  brim,  puffing  away  at 
his  short  pipe.  I  often  tell  Anna,  '  You  and  Thomas  Jans 
in  your  different  ways  are  the  noblesse  of  Hilligenlei. ' 
He  reads  the  Labour  Leader  as  he  used,  and  still  belongs 
to  the  party.  But  he's  not  a  whole-hearted  adherent;  he 
can't  give  up  the  Bible  ...  he  can't  get  away  from  the 
lightship,  so  to  speak,  on  which  he  used  to  brood  and 
read  the  Bible  in  his  young  days." 

"  And  how  are  Anna  and  the  children?  " 

Pe  Ontjes  Lau  gave  a  curious  smile.  "  Well,"  he  said, 
"  the  children  and  I  know  her  humours  now,  and  so  we 
get  on  very  well  on  the  whole.  Of  course,  she  worries 
because  her  husband  is  not  the  richest  and  most  learned 
man  in  Hilligenlei  and  hasn't  got  the  best  position — and, 
indeed,  she  might  demand  as  much  of  God — and  because 
her  children  are  not  first  at  school.  The  girl  is  quick  and 
bright  like  herself ;  but  the  boy  is  slow  like  me.  We  have 
something  to  bear,  Kai,  and  perhaps  we  always  shall 
have ;  her  nature  somehow  seems  never  to  have  been 
smoothed  off  or  finished.  But  you  have  helped  us.  Four 
years  ago,  when  she  read  the  life  of  the  Saviour  that  you 
gave  to  Heinke,  she  was  much  softer  and  gentler  and 
less  unjust  for  a  while.  The  other  day  the  boy  came  into 
my  writing-room  and  stood  close  by  me  for  a  time  playing 
with  the  ruler,  and  then  said,  in  a  kind  of  offhand  way, 
'  Father,  mother  has  been  so  sharp  and  so  cross  to-day 
and  yesterday  ...  do  you  know  .  .  .  you  must  talk 
about  the  life  of  the  Saviour  this  evening.  Perhaps  she 
will  read  it  again. ' ' 

Kai  Jans  smiled.     "  But  you  are  happy?  " 

"  Of  course  we  are,"  said  Pe  Ontjes.  "  The  whole 
trouble,  hers  and  ours,  is  that  she  loves  us  beyond 
reason." 

"And  Pete?" 


HOLYLAND  369 

"  Oh — Pete.  Pete  has  only  one  idea — getting  on — 
getting  on.  It  does  not  make  him  happy,  but  there  seems 
no  room  for  anything  else  in  him.  He  has  married  a 
German-American  like  himself.  We  see  nothing  of  her." 

Kai  Jans  lay  still  awhile,  thinking  of  the  friend  of  his 
youth  with  half-closed  eyes.  Then  his  thoughts  passed 
to  Tjark  Dusenschon,  and  he  asked  about  him. 

"  He  is  here  in  Hamburg,  and  is  said  to  have  a  good 
position  in  some  private  business — something  in  the  under- 
taking line,  I  imagine.  Don't  be  afraid;  a  man  like  that 
never  goes  under." 

Kai  Jans  was  silent  and  lay  still  for  awhile,  rather 
exhausted.  Pe  Ontjes  sat  by  his  side.  Then,  rousing 
himself  again,  he  said,  "  Have  you  any  other  message 
for  me?" 

"Heinke  is  here,  Kai." 

"  Is  she  coming?  "  he  said  softly.  Then,  suddenly, 
in  spite  of  his  efforts  to  control  himself,  he  began  to  weep 
passionately,  and  said  between  his  sobs,  "  Dear  Pe,  I 
am  no  coward,  but  I  am  still  weak  from  my  illness." 

"  I  know,  my  boy.  ...  I  know.  .  .  .  Weep  if  it 
eases  you." 

"  I  haven't  wept  since  that  day  on  the  Gude  Wife." 

"  I  know,  my  boy.  .  .  .  You  don't  need  to  be 
ashamed;  there's  reason  enough  for  it." 

"  There  is  nothing  so  hard  in  life,"  said  Kai  Jans,  "  as 
to  have  to  avoid  what  is  more  precious  to  one  than  every- 
thing in  the  world." 

"  Yes,  my  boy;  I  can  understand." 

4 '  I  have  fought  against  it ;  you  can  believe  that.  But 
often  when  I  was  so  alone,  so  utterly  alone,  and  used  to 
think  how  dear  she  is  and  hear  her  sweet  voice  and  see 
her  dear,  bright  eyes,  then  despair  seemed  to  take  hold 
of  me.  Oh,  Pe  Ontjes,  what  has  one  in  the  world  .  .  . 
how  poor  the  man  is  who  loves  and  has  to  avoid  her  he 
loves." 

"  I  think,  Kai,  it  will  be  easier  now,"  said  the  great 
Pe  Ontjes  sympathetically.  "  You  will  grow  accustomed 
to  seeing  her  now  and  then,  and  then  you  will  be  more  at 
rest." 

He  became  calmer.  "Yes,"  he  said,  "since  it  has  to 
be  I  ought  to  be  glad  that  she  and  her  husband  are  my 
friends.  I  will  learn  to  rejoice  in  her  happiness."  He 

B  B 


370  HOLYLAND 

passed  his  hand  across  his  eyes  and  lay  still.  "It  is 
possible,"  he  said,  "that  I  shall  not  live  much  longer; 
then  there  will  be  an  end  of  all  trouble. ' ' 

"Oh,"  said  Pe  Ontjes,  "don't  talk  like  that.  You 
will  go  to  Wiesbaden  or  Nauheim  and  get  well  again ; 
and  when  you  are  a  strong  man  again  you  can  do  the 
work  you  describe  in  the  life  of  the  Saviour. ' ' 

"Yes,"  he  said,  "perhaps.  There  is  a  great  deal  I 
want  to  do.  Only,  Pe  Ontjes  ...  it  is  too  deep.  I 
have  known  her  so  long — since  she  was  a  child.  God  let 
her  grow  up  before  my  eyes ;  let  her  grow  beautiful  and 
clever  and  dear,  so  dear ;  and  said  to  me,  '  Look  how  she 
grows  and  blooms ;  one  day  she  shall  make  a  strong  and 
good  man  of  you.  .  .  .'  And  now  ...  it  is  hard  to 
bear." 

A  step  was  heard  outside  and  a  woman's  voice. 

"  I  told  her  to  follow  me  if  I  did  not  return.  I  think 
that  is  she.  .  .  .  Courage,  my  boy !  I  will  wait  on 
board.  I  only  wanted  to  tell  you  that  she  is  expecting 
her  second  child.  .  .  .  Now,  be  brave  and  calm."  He 
went  out  at  the  door  and  she  came  in. 

She  went  straight  up  to  his  bed  and  began  to  stroke 
his  hands.  Although  she  had  made  up  her  mind  to 
remain  perfectly  calm,  she  began  to  weep  as  she  stroked 
his  hands,  and  said,  "Dear,  dear  boy.  .  .  .  Heinke  is 
here  .  .  .  only  say  what  can  she  do  for  you.  Tell  me, 
what  can  I  do?  " 

He  looked  up  at  her  with  beaming  eyes.  "  Be  good 
to  me,  as  you  are,"  he  said.  "  It  makes  me  too  happy 
to  have  you  so.  ...  Are  they  good  to  you?  " 

"Who,  Kai?  Peter  Volquardsen?  He  is  just  what 
he  always  was,  Kai  .  .  .  the  same  dear,  splendid  person 
that  he  always  was." 

"Then  all  is  well,"  he  said.  "It  has  not  been  in 
vain." 

"No,"  she  said,  "  not  in  vain.  You  have  saved  one 
human  soul  from  misery,  and  another  from  the  pangs  of 
conscience.  Not  in  vain  !  But  you  must  be  brave ;  what 
is  the  use,  if  you  are  not  brave  and  gay?  "  She  bent 
over  his  hand  and  pressed  it  against  her  face,  weeping 
bitterly  as  she  said,  "  If  you  cannot  bear  it  and  your  love 
for  me  ruins  you — that  I  could  not  bear.  All  my  happiness 
would  vanish." 


HOLYLAND  371 

He  nodded  to  her.  "  I  have  been  brave  always ;  haven't 
I  written  you  good  letters  always  ?  I  will  fight  it  out ; 
you  shall  see. ' ' 

She  pushed  back  the  hair  from  his  forehead  and  temples 
and  looked  at  him  with  affectionately  tearful  eyes.  "  And 
in  the  summer  holidays,  if  you  are  in  Wiesbaden  and  we 
can  save  enough,  we  will  come  and  see  you.  I  shall  still 
be  able  to  travel  then.  Then  I  will  sit  with  you  all  day. 
And  in  the  autumn  you  must  come  to  Hilligenlei.  You 
are  to  live  with  Anna — did  you  know  that?  " 

"Afterwards  I  shall  live  in  Hamburg,"  he  said.  "I 
agreed  on  that  with  my  friend.  I  shall  do  all  sorts  of 
things  there,  and  then.  ..." 

"  Then  you  will  come  to  Hilligenlei  from  time  to  time, 
and  we  shall  be  ever  so  glad.  You  shall  just  see  how 
glad  we  shall  be  !  " 

"  Then  when  your  children  are  bigger,"  he  said  with 
happy  eyes,  "  you  must  bring  them  to  Hamburg  and  I 
will  show  you  everything.  And  as  I  get  older  I  can  come 
and  sit  with  you  and  see  you  busy  in  your  house,  and  talk 
over  old  times  with  you." 

"  And  then,"  she  said,  with  merry  eyes,  "  then  we  shall 
get  quite  old,  and  you  will  come  every  day  and  we  shall 
discuss  the  state  of  your  health."  And  she  began  to  talk 
in  the  high,  piping  voice  of  quite  an  old  woman  that  came 
strangely  from  her  fresh,  laughing  face  and  her  shining 
young  eyes. 

He  looked  at  her  with  happy  eyes.  ' '  Are  you  the  same 
to  everybody  that  you  are  to  me?  " 

"Oh,  no,"  she  said;  "the  Bojes  are  not  like  that. 
Only  to  my  own  people  and  you.  Oh,  you  must  see  the 
little  boy.  ...  I  really  wanted  to  bring  him  with  me. 
But  it  is  better  as  it  is.  I  wanted  to  be  the  old  Heinke 
Boje  when  I  came." 

"  The  old  Heinke  Boje,"  he  sighed. 

"  Your  dearest  friend,"  she  said,  "  who  would  do  any- 
thing for  you — anything.  Kai,  you  must  never  be  lonely. 
My  husband  told  me  to  tell  you  that  you  are  never  to  be 
lonely." 

"  You  dear  people,"  said  he.  "  Tell  me  about  him  and 
about  your  life." 

She  began  to  tell  him  and  he  listened  for  a  while.  Then 
his  eyes  grew  gradually  heavy. 

B   B    2 


372  HOLYLAND 

The  doctor  came  in.  He  went  up  to  the  bed  and  said, 
"  I  have  decided  to  take  you  to  the  hospital  this  after- 
noon. Since  you  have  had  all  sorts  of  excitement  to-day, 
and  since  you  have  to  move,  I  propose  that  you  do  not 
see  your  friends  again  until  to-morrow  morning  ...  in 
the  hospital.  Do  you  agree?  " 

Kai  Jans  nodded  and  the  doctor  turned  to  go. 

Heinke  bent  down  over  him  quickly  and  said  in  a  low 
voice,  with  tears  streaming  from  her  eyes,  "  Dear,  pre- 
cious one,"  and  went  out. 

It  was  the  last  time  they  saw  each  other. 

Late  in  the  afternoon  he  was  moved  into  the  harbour 
hospital,  and  lay  there  exhausted  by  the  moving,  but  at 
peace. 

Towards  evening  a  young  Hamburg  clergyman  came  to 
see  him,  who  had  been  devoted  to  him  for  years,  and  had 
heard  of  his  being  there  through  a  chance  meeting  with 
the  doctor.  He,  like  other  friends,  had  read  the  manu- 
script life  of  the  Saviour,  which  had  been  copied  and 
passed  from  hand  to  hand,  and  he  now  asked  whether 
he  intended  to  publish  it.  He  replied  that  he  should 
wait  a  year;  he  wanted  to  read  it  through  first.  His 
young  friend  then  asked  him  whether  he  dreaded 
publication. 

"  No,"  he  said,  "  why  should  I  dread  it?  I  know  that 
my  Saviour  and  my  gospel  are  truer  than  those  taught 
by  the  Church.  Even  if  I  stood  quite  alone  why  should 
I  be  afraid?  One  need  not  be  afraid  to  be  alone  with 
truth.  ...  Of  course,  people  will  say,  '  Look  how  wildly 
he  talks  as  soon  as  he  has  given  up  orders,'  but  that  is 
not  the  explanation ;  it  was  only  that  before  I  did  not  see 
things  clearly.  I  was  still  under  the  ban  of  doctrine, 
like  most  of  my  brethren ;  it  only  came  to  me  slowly  and 
painfully.  How  I  have  brooded  all  my  life,  what  fears 
I  have  had  !  "  After  a  pause  he  said,  "  But  I  have  fought 
my  way  out  of  the  confusion ;  I  have  not  wriggled  and 
twisted  out  like  an  eel ;  and  that  is  why  I  am  happy  now 
and  ready  to  die  or  live  as  God  wills  it." 

After  another  silence,  during  which  his  friend  turned 
over  the  leaves  of  the  New  Testament  that  lay  on  the  table 
by  his  bed,  he  said,  as  if  to  himself,  "  And  it  is  better  so." 

"  What  is  better  so?  "  asked  his  friend. 

He  made  no  reply.     He  only  said  in  a  low,  weary  voice 


HOLYLAND  373 

— he  had  heard  the  rustling  of  the  leaves — "  Read  me 
something  aloud — about  Him." 

He  read  some  sentences  from  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount 
and  some  of  the  parables,  just  where  he  happened  to  open 
the  book. 

After  a  pause  he  awoke  from  his  dreams  and  said, 
"  Teachers  ought  to  be  good  to  all  children." 

"  Why  do  you  say  that?  "  said  his  friend. 

"One  must  be  good  to  children,"  he  said.  "They 
cannot  defend  themselves.  And,  perhaps,  they  cannot  tell, 
the  boy  who  is  to  bring  the  final  knowledge  is  sitting  at 
their  feet,  or  the  girl  who  is  to  be  his  mother,  tortured 
by  strange,  dreamlike  thoughts." 

His  friend  said,  "  Quite  a  number  of  professors  are 
trying  to  teach  people  the  new  knowledge.  They  write 
well." 

He  smiled.  ' '  Their  task  is  hard  enough.  God  bless 
German  science  !  I  thought  badly  enough  of  it  at  one 
time ;  but  we  owe  it  a  great  debt. ' ' 

His  friend  said,  "  If  your  life  of  the  Saviour  is  pub- 
lished, many,  many  people  who  have  fallen  away  from  the 
doctrines  of  the  Church  and  lost  all  faith  thereby,  will 
be  able  to  feel  themselves  Christians  again.  They  will 
be  able  to  accept  the  Gospel,  and  that  will  be  a  great  gain 
in  their  lives  and  hereafter." 

He  seemed  not  to  have  heard.  After  a  time  he  said, 
"  It  will  not  be  light  until  we  have  got  rid  of  all  our 
confused  notions,  of  the  Pope  and  the  atonement  by  His 
blood,  and  all  the  other  stupid  errors,  and  have  the  simple 
gospel  instead.  His  yoke  is  easy  and  His  burden  is 
light." 

He  folded  his  hands  painfully  and  lay  still  for  a  time. 
Then  he  said  in  a  clear  voice,  "  I  have  seen  Hilligenlei 
once — in  a  dream  ...  it  was  unspeakably  beautiful." 
He  seemed  to  sleep. 

His  friend  sat  for  a  time  beside  the  bed,  reading  in  the 
New  Testament,  and  then  went  softly  out. 

The  next  morning  they  found  Kai  Jans  dead.  The 
examination  proved  that  he  had  died  of  syncope  about 
midnight,  apparently  without  any  struggle. 

When  Pe  Ontjes  reached  the  hospital  about  nine  next 
morning  he  learned  that  the  end  had  come,  and  he  went 


374  HOLYLAND 

back  to  the  inn  to  Heinke  in  deep  depression.  She  was 
still  in  her  room. 

When  he  told  her  she  seemed  at  first  like  one  turned  to 
stone.  When  she  understood  and  it  suddenly  dawned 
upon  her,  "  He  is  gone — gone  out  of  my  life, ' '  she  wept 
bitterly  and  stretched  out  her  hand  to  him  like  a  child 
whose  favourite  plaything  has  been  taken  away. 

Once  again  a  Boje  sat  upon  the  edge  of  her  bed  and 
would  not  be  comforted. 

Pe  Ontjes  said  what  he  could.  "  Did  you  love  him 
so?  "  he  said.  "  And  do  you  love  your  husband  as 
much?  "  Then  in  genuine  astonishment  he  said,  "  You 
Bojes  are  strange  people !  .  .  .  But  now  you  mustn't 
cry  any  more.  Get  up  and  come  with  me.  We  must 
telegraph  and  see  about  the  funeral." 

"  Not  in  Hamburg,"  said  she. 

"  I  should  think  not,"  said  he.  "  In  Hindorf.  That's 
where  his  people  come  from.  That's  where  his  father 
lived  as  a  young  man.  And  he  himself  took  duty  there 
for  two  years." 

"  Yes,"  she  said,  "  I  often  go  and  see  the  dear  people 
at  the  vicarage,  where  we  two  used  to  be  like  their  own 
children." 

She  rose  and  wiped  her  bright  eyes  and  smoothed  down 
her  dress,  sobbing  afresh  as  she  said,  "I  can't  go  out 
like  this ;  I  must  have  a  black  dress. ' ' 

He  smiled  in  the  midst  of  his  grief. 

"  We  can  buy  one  here,  Heinke,"  he  said,  stroking  her 
hair.  "  Come  now." 

They  drove  to  the  hospital.  On  the  way  he  tried  to 
persuade  her  not  to  see  the  dead.  "  I  have  seen  him," 
he  said,  "  and  I  can  tell  you  that  his  face  is  quiet  and 
peaceful.  Be  content  with  that. " 

When  they  were  leaving  the  building  who  should  come 
towards  them  but  Tjark  Dusenschon.  He  was  clad  in 
the  deepest  mourning,  with  a  shiny  tall  hat  and  umbrella. 
An  expression  of  profound  seriousness  on  his  round,  clean- 
shaven face,  he  came  towards  them,  and  after  shaking 
hands  said,  "  I  have  heard  that  Kai  Jans  is  dead  ..." 
he  swallowed  down  his  tears  .  .  .  "The  body  is  to  go 
to  Hilligenlei?" 

"To  Hindorf." 

"  I  am  at  the  head  of  the  undertaking  firm  of  Holy 


HOLYLAND  375 

Trinity,  of  which  I  am  the  founder.  If  you  will  entrust 
to  me  the  execution  of  this  melancholy  commission,  I  can 
ensure  that  everything  will  be  carried  out  to  your  satis- 
faction. .  .  .  We  have  three  classes  .  .  ."  he  drew  a 
price  list  out  of  his  pocket. 

"  Medium,"  said  Pe  Ontjes,  curtly  and  quickly. 

"Coffin,  pall.   ..." 

"  I  will  be  there  to  superintend,"  said  Pe  Oatjes. 

"...  and  conveyance  to  Hilligenlei  Station,  thirteen 
pounds." 

"Agreed,"  said  Pe  Ontjes.  "We  can  go  now, 
Heinke. " 

Two  days  later  Kai  Jans  lay  on  his  bier  in  the  hospital 
mortuary,  unchanged,  wrapped  in  the  white  pall  which 
Tjark  Dusenschon  had  provided.  Pe  Ontjes  had  stood 
by  and  seen  everything  done.  The  bearers  came  in. 

Tjark  Dusensch6n  came  in  in  his  elegant  frock  coat, 
his  shiny  black  hat  in  his  hand,  and,  standing  at  the  head 
of  the  bier,  uttered  an  "Our  Father,"  as  prescribed  by 
the  constitution  of  the  Holy  Trinity. 

The  coffin  was  closed  and  carried  out. 

Outside,  when  the  hearse  had  already  started  and  Pe 
Ontjes  was  just  getting  into  the  carriage  beside  Heinke, 
Tjark  Dusenschfin  came  up  to  say  farewell,  and  said,  with 
a  melancholy  shake  of  his  head,  "  It's  a  pity  that  he  never 
came  to  anything  ...  he  was  such  a  gifted  fellow. 
But  .  .  .  you  know  ...  he  had  no  class  feeling.  That 
was  what  it  was.  He  always  remained  the  workman,  the 
country  boy.  He  never  rose  .  .  .  that  was  his  failing." 

Pe  Ontjes  said  nothing.  He  was  eager  to  be  away  from 
the  town  and  at  home  again.  He  kept  leaning  out  of  the 
window,  watching  the  hearse  in  front  making  its  way 
through  the  press  of  traffic,  the  noise,  and  ringing  of  bells. 

When  they  reached  the  station  at  Hilligenlei  they  found 
there  twenty  to  thirty  people  clad  in  mourning,  people 
that  they  knew ;  eight  Hindorf  workmen  took  the  coffin, 
four  on  each  side,  fair  beards  to  the  right,  red  to  the 
left,  aad  raised  it  on  to  their  shoulders. 

Then  Pe  Ontjes  drew  a  deep  breath.  "  Thank  God  !  " 
he  said.  At  last  he  seemed  to  feel  him  saved  from  all 
the  sorrows  and  troubles  of  life. 

The  little  old  man  stood  in  front  of  his  door,  in  front  of 
the  long  house,  waiting  for  the  procession.  He  gave  a 


376  HOLYLAND 

long-  look  at  the  coffin  and  his  mouth  quivered.  Then  he 
pressed  his  cap  over  his  eyes  and  silently  joined  the  train. 
The  mighty  Pe  Ontjes  went  by  his  side. 

Heinke  and  Anna,  who  had  been  with  the  old  man, 
looked  out  from  the  window.  The  custom  for  women  to 
go  to  funerals  is  only  finding  its  way  very  gradually  here. 

What  more  is  there  to  say?  The  warm,  heavy  May 
rain  fell  into  his  open  grave.  New  corn  is  springing  up. 
Men  will  grow  up  to  care  for  the  highest  in  humanity,  to 
fight  for  it  in  deed  and  thought. 


THE  END. 


NOTE 

THE  life  of  the  Saviour  contained  in  this  novel  is  the  outcome  of 
meditations  extending  over  many  years,  and  a  conscientious  study  of 
the  results  of  scientific  research  into  the  question.  Within  the  last 
five  years  I  have,  with  the  intention  of  some  time  writing  a  short 
history  of  the  Saviour,  studied  the  works  of  the  following  writers, 
most  of  them  teachers  at  the  universities  :  H.  Holtzmann,  Jiilicher, 
Werule,  Weinel,  Urede,  Grimm,  Otto,  Meyer,  O.  Holtzmann,  Traub, 
Bousset,  P.  W.  Schmidt,  Harnack,  von  Soden,  Holtmann,  Troeltsch. 

For  further  information  I  recommend — 

1.  Writings  and  Speeches.     By  Henrich  Weinel,  Jena. 

2.  Historical  and  Religious  Tales.     By  Schiele,  Marburg. 

3.  The  New  Testament,  retranslated  and  expounded  by  O.   Baum- 
garten,  &c. 

4.  The  Story  of  Jesus.     P.  W.   Schmidt,   Basel. 

5.  Th«  Questions  of  the  Life  of  Jesus.     By  von  Soden,  Berlin. 


K.  CLAY  AND  SONS,  LTD.,  BREAD  ST.  HILL,  E.G.,  AND  BUNGAY,  SUFFOLK 


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